Terrible Twos
by Writer With Sprite
Summary: Gordon finds himself in a do-or-die situation when a kidnapper abducts him and his younger brother at a motel on the family vacation. Wee!Tracys. Alan whump. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Inspired by this idea the other day. Probably about four to five chapters. I'll try not to let it take away from Rough Landings or 96 Hours Until Sold. I hope you enjoy another toast of Alan whump.

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><p>Summary: Gordon finds himself in a do-or-die situation when a kidnapper abducts him and his younger brother at a motel on the family vacation. Wee!Tracys. Alan whump.<p>

Note: Gordon is 16, Alan is 11. All other ages line up accordingly.

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><p>"Come on, Alan, let's go!" Sixteen-year-old Gordon Tracy called for his little brother as he made his way out the door. Something wasn't right. He ducked his head back inside the motel room. He had to meet Scott and his father at the tourist attraction in under two hours, and he wanted to stop for breakfast first. The redhead sighed and shook his head. Holy cats, how long <em>did<em> it take Alan to get dressed? It wasn't like he was a girl!

Normally, the family would have gone together, but Virgil and John were still coming down from college and wouldn't be there until that time anyway. His father and Scott had decided to see another tourist attraction that morning, but Gordon had flatly said that this was his vacation, too, and he didn't want to go. His father had surprised him by allowing him and Alan to sleep in late as long as they met him at the tourist attraction later. "Alan? Come on!" He commanded, ducking his head into the room.

Gordon had gone downstairs, gotten a soft drink from the incredibly expensive selection at the hotel, and then waltzed back upstairs. He would have thought his eleven year old brother would have been ready in that time frame. He thought it would speed them up in getting out the door. After all, it wasn't like the eleven-year-old could get in trouble at the luxurious, ritzy hotel when left alone for two minutes, right?

He should have known better.

And, even though his brother was in a public, fancy hotel room in the middle of the city, he should have foreseen that his brother would have gotten into a lot of trouble, also.

"Let him go!" Gordon commanded with false bravado, seeing the man clearly holding the gun that was pointed directly at Alan's head. "Let him go, come on, man!"

The man who was holding Alan was about 6'5, black, and had beady brown eyes. His dark hair was knotted in dreads, and he wore black sneakers that looked like they cost more than Gordon's entire monthly gas budget – which was fairly substantial, after he had finished driving Alan everywhere. The smirk on the man's face made Gordon feel sick to his stomach. Just what was going on here?

"I don't think so." The man's voice was crisp, and Gordon froze, his hand still on the door. He could clearly see the mask of terror on his brother's face. In the five minutes that Gordon was gone, his brother had also earned himself a split lip.

_Shit. Scott was going to kill him._

"Close the door," the man commanded. "Or I'll just save myself a lot of trouble and shoot you right now. I only need one of you alive," he added.

"No!" Alan screamed, and Gordon could clearly see the look of terror on his brother's face.

"Look, don't hurt him!" Gordon said. "Just, I'm going to shut the door right now, okay?" Seeing no other alternative, Gordon did what the man commanded.

Alan was released onto the floor with a thump. Gordon moved to catch his younger brother, but was too late. "Are you okay?" he whispered softly.

Alan shook his head. "He slapped me," he responded, glaring at the gun-wielding man. Gordon winced, both at Alan's treatment and his response. The last thing they needed right now was for one of them to play a hero. If only he could reach his cell phone in his pocket, he could dial 911, but he didn't think that was going to be happening anytime soon.

"Which of the Tracy brats are you?" the man asked, looking at Gordon. Gordon attempted to swallow the lump in his throat that. Should he tell the man? Should he not? It didn't really matter in the long term of things; what mattered was getting out of here. "I was only planning on kidnapping the youngest. That's what usually evokes the most response out of someone, after all. But you threw a wrench into my plans. I have options, though," he said, as if almost to himself. "I could kill you and leave you here, where Jeff Tracy would find the body. I could take you with and kill you at a later time of my choosing. Or…"

"Or you could take me and let Alan go," Gordon said. He doubted it would happen, and he didn't want to go with the psychopath, but the less chance of his brother being taken away, the better. He didn't know who the man was, but he'd already hurt his younger brother, and Gordon Tracy knew that was _not_ a good thing.

"Why would I do that?" the man responded, a brief smile on his face. "That would spoil all the fun. No, no. I've been planning on kidnapping Alan for a long time. I guess you're coming along, too. After all, you can always care for Alan, too, right?" he asked. "You might have _some_ use." He pointed his gun directly at Gordon, causing the teenager's heart to nearly stop.

"Get up," he ordered. Gordon got up to his feet, shakily pushing himself up off the carpet. He knew what happened to kidnapping victims. It wasn't good. "Now get your brother. You're going to carry him out the door. If anyone asks, I'm your caretaker, and you don't say a damn word other than that or I'll beat up your baby brother. Got it?"

Gordon nodded, reaching towards Alan. Normally protesting at being carried – after all, the kid was 11 – Alan put up no resistance this time. Instead, he wrapped his arms firmly around Gordon's neck, letting Gordon know there would be no way he would be letting his brother go anytime soon.

"Let's go," the man responded, closing the door to the family hotel room.

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><p>"Hey, Scott!" John said enthusiastically, waving towards his older brother. John was graduating from high school that year. Virgil and Scott had already graduated.<p>

"John!" Virgil said, letting himself breathe a sigh of relief, "A sane person!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Scott teased, greeting his brother with a welcoming hug. "How have you been, little brother?" he asked as he looked at John. He frowned. "Where is everyone else? Hiding?"

John quickly shook his head. "No. Dad's gone to get something to drink. Gordon and Alan are on their way. They should be here in…" John checked his watch, "They should be here already, actually."

"Wait, did I hear that right?" Scott asked. "Did _Dad_ – our father, Jefferson Tracy – let the Terrible Two go off somewhere by themselves?"

"Scott!" Virgil responded, almost wailing in an obnoxious, high-pitched tone, "Gordon is sixteen!"

"And Alan is eleven," Scott responded. "Trust me, those two get into loads of trouble. Which brings me back to my original question… Where are they?"

"We went to a landmark earlier. It's your typical case of Teenage Laziness – Gordon didn't want to see it, he wanted to sleep in; Dad thought Alan was young enough he wouldn't understand it, so he let them drive by themselves. We're not _that_ far from home, remember? The new move to the new, luxurious New York City house?" John teased. "Anyway, it was no stretch to bring Gordon's car along, too, so we did."

"I remember," Scott responded with a roll of his eyes. "When is Dad going to get the new island, anyway?"

"Probably when he gets his next pay raise," John said with a shrug. "You're right, though, they're taking too long. I'm going to call the Terrible Two before they get into any more trouble."

"Sometimes," Virgil muttered under his breath, "I'm really glad I went far, far away to college."

"Say that a little louder, bro," Scott said as John flipped open his cell phone. "I don't think the state of Tennessee heard you yet."

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><p>Gordon had been forced into the backseat of some car. Normally, he could have told someone the make and model, but all of his attention had been focused on Alan. The man's teeth were clenched as he drove, making the situation that much worse. Gordon frowned as his phone vibrated. Keeping his eyes carefully on the man, he slid his hand down into his pocket and hung up the call. He wanted desperately to talk to someone and let them know what was going on, but that would have to come later, before his phone was discovered. He couldn't take that risk.<p>

Right now there were more pressing matters – like getting himself and Alan out of this situation alive.

And figuring out what the hell was going on here.

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><p>"Dude, what the heck?" John responded. "I think Gordon just hung up on me!"<p>

"Oh, come on," Scott said with a roll of his eyes. "His voice mailbox is probably just overfull. He never checks it. You know that, right? Never bother with leaving him a voice mail message."

"No. It rang for one ring and then hung up. Gordon's phone never does that. It always rings at least twice before asking you to leave a message. Plus," John added, flashing the phone triumphantly at Scott, "Look here. It says 'call rejected.'"

"Hardly reason for worry," Virgil brought up. "Look, the kid has Sprout with him, right? He probably just wants to make sure he doesn't get in trouble while driving with him or something."

"Yeah," Scott added. The theory sounded good, and he hoped it was true. "Let's just stick with what we know, alright? Gordon will be fine. He's just late, and we'll go and kick his ass later. We'll worry about the terrible twos only if we need to. Sound good?"

"Yeah," John said. "Let's find Dad and see if we can get in touch with Gordo. No reason to worry about him just yet."

Little did they know that there was, in fact, reason to worry about him "just yet."

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><p>Challenge: How soon until they know that Gordon is missing?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Gordon Tracy felt sick to his stomach. They were at their "new" house, the man had explained. They would be staying there the next few days until the man got things straightened out. Gordon hadn't seen much of it, he'd been ordered to his room straight away with Alan in toe.

He really didn't care. He just wanted to get him – and his brother – out of there. The man had been angry at one part of the ride; filling up the gas tank, if Gordon had remembered correctly. Gordon was now sporting a nice bruise on his elbow from where he'd been kicked. He was just grateful it wasn't Alan who had gotten in the man's fire.

He still had no clue what the hell the man wanted, so there was no way for Gordon to negotiate, no way for him to figure out anything. He knew they were about an hour's drive from their original spot. He knew they'd gone far enough for the man to have to fill up the gas tank.

He hoped to God someone had seen the SOB kick him in public.

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><p>"I'm going to kill Gordon," Scott said for the umpteenth time, pacing the Tracy family hotel room. "Only he could get into so much trouble doing one simple task!"<p>

"We don't even know that it's Gordon's fault yet," Virgil said reasonably. He had been listening to Scott rant for the last hour and a half, and it only added to his worry. Jeff had gone back to the hotel, and finding the boys not there, had started searching.

"Hey, guys!" John said, poking his head in the room. "They just found Gordon's car."

"And?"

"It's still in the parking lot. Reason why we didn't find it? Gordon said he didn't feel like parallel parking next to all the 'ritzy cars' last night, and decided to park in the McDonald's parking lot next door."

"Why would Gordon care about the ritzy cars?" Scott knew that his father had offered Gordon virtually any car he wanted for his 16th birthday, and that Gordon had opted not to get a fancy one, already bullied at school for having a rich daddy. Jeff had been proud of his son's choice.

"Because he, and I quote, 'didn't want to spend two years of his life paying for the cost.'" John rolled his eyes. "So wherever they are, they aren't here, and they aren't with his car. I swear, it took the valet guys _forever_ too see if his car was in the damn parking lot. I don't know why we couldn't have done it," he snorted.

"So what's Dad doing?"

"Calling the FBI," John responded wearily, "as well as the local police, which, well, they're already here, but still, and then apparently he's calling in some favors from the CIA."

"God pity the idiot who was stupid enough to take Gordon and Alan," Virgil muttered under his breath. At Scott's glance, he quickly amended. "Come on, dude. With three worried brothers, one worried father, the FBI, the CIA, and the NYPD, he doesn't stand a chance."

"We better hope not," Scott Tracy growled, abruptly leaving the idea. "I have an idea."

"Just like that," Virgil muttered. "So what do we do?"

"According to Dad, we sit here, stay at the hotel, and I quote, 'don't get into any trouble, and don't let Scott leave the room.'" John grinned at his older brother.

"Bit late for that, don't you think?"

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><p>It was supposed to have been the best family vacation. John would be going off to college the next year, and it was supposed to be one well-wished family vacation.<p>

Now it had been turned into a nightmare – all because Gordon had wanted to sleep in and drive separately, and because Jeff had let him.

Seeing Jeff's guilty glance, the FBI agent, David Sinclair, spoke up. "Mr. Tracy, it's not your fault. For all we know, whoever abducted your sons could have been looking for an opportunity for a long time, and we might be grateful that there isn't more damage done."

"How am I supposed to feel grateful when my son is missing?" Jeff said with a sigh.

David closed his eyes. "I'm just saying not to blame yourself, Mr. Tracy."

An older man came in the office, looking to be about 60 with gray hair. He was talking with the lead agent. "Who is that?" Jeff asked, curious. Was someone so old working with the FBI?

"That's Don's father, Alan," David responded. A brief thought crossed his mind. "I'll be right back."

## break ##

David Sinclair stuck his head out the door. They were supposed to be on vacation, he reflected. After all, that's why they'd been in New York the first place. But Colby Granger, their FBI agent, was missing. They had been called to help on this operation as well.

"Hey, Don, Alan," he said. "Alan, how do you feel about asking someone some questions?"

Don glanced at David as if he had three, or maybe four, heads. "Explain, please."

"Mr. Tracy is really upset right now, he's blaming himself. I was thinking maybe someone who's been a father might relate to him better."

"I can certainly do that," Alan responded. "Lord knows all the times I've been worried sick because of Don and Charlie missing."

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><p>Alan Tracy was scared. He was only eleven, and he was trying to be brave. But he couldn't help being terrified.<p>

_Flashback_

_Alan had left the door open a crack for Gordon, not wanting his brother to be locked out while Alan finished trying to tie his shoes. It wasn't as if he didn't know how, _ _but his shoes could be tricky, daggone it!_

_He glanced up as he heard a voice. Was Gordon back from buying his drink already? _

"_Y-you're not Gordon!" Alan said, stuttering, leaping off of the bed. Who was he? Already, Alan didn't like the man, even though I didn't know why._

"_You're right, I'm not," the man responded. He reached into his holster and pulled out a black gun. Alan stilled. He didn't know much about guns, except for what he'd seen on television. He just knew they could hurt people. And Gordon had said they could kill people…_

… _And apparently, they could even kill unicorns, from a conversation that Scott and Virgil had had that Alan had overheard …_

"_You know what guns can do, right, kid?" the man said, as he walked over to Alan. He slid his gun back in his holster, confident that with Alan's terrified expression, he would be very, very cooperative now._

"_Y-yes," Alan stuttered._

"_Good. Then you'll have no problem listening to what I say," the man responded as he moved towards Alan._

_Alan chose that minute to strike. He struck out, kicking the man squarely in the ankle. Scott had always told him never to listen to men who wanted to hurt him, and he wasn't about to start._

_He didn't realize that Scott was talking about the playground bullies, and not about real evil men with guns. _

"_Stupid kid!" With that, the man reached out and backhanded Alan in the face. Alan whimpered, but remained seated firmly on the ground._

end flashback –

"Alan!" Gordon said, gently shaking his younger brother. "Alan, wake up, come on."

"Gordon?" Alan whispered sleepily. He glanced around. They were in a new place. He dropped himself out of Gordon's arms. "Where are we?"

The look on Gordon's face was difficult to process. "We're at the new place," he responded in a sad tone of voice.

* * *

><p>Gordon sighed as he glanced around the room. One worn, green cot was in the middle. Gordon frowned, a nagging suspicion already in his mind. He opened up the drawers, seeing the clothes. He took up a shirt and held it up towards Alan.<p>

It was exactly Alan's size. "My size!" Alan said, almost in awe.

Gordon felt sick to his stomach. He had the bad, awful feeling that someone had been planning this for a long, long time.

As for Gordon? Gordon had probably gotten in his way.

_This was so not good. _

The man opened the door, and a woman ran in. She was blond, about 5'2, and was wearing a pink dress. "Alan, my child, welcome home!"

Gordon shot a look at the man, like, _you've got to be kidding me_.

"This isn't my home," Alan said, glancing at Gordon shakily.

"Don't say that to your mother, sweetie," the woman said, embracing Alan with a hug. "I've been waiting for so long to see you!"

_But you're not our mother, _Gordon thought.

"I used to work for Jeff," the man said, glancing at Gordon. "Shall you and I talk in another room?"

Feeling sick to his stomach, Gordon nodded. He glanced at Alan, not wanting to leave her alone with the woman.

They went to the hallway, where the man smiled at Gordon. "I used to work for your father. He fired me because I stole some data from him," the man said with a bitter laugh. "Now, I'm getting my payment. I never was with him when he was high-up; it was a few years ago. I have been in jail for three years because of your father. Now I'm going to get my revenge."

"You're going to hurt Alan?" Gordon said, his mouth dropping open in horror.

"No, no, although I might hurt you if you don't cooperate. And I'll probably have to beat Alan at some point; I'm not sure how obedient the child is. No… my wife has wanted a son for years. Now she has one. Not sure what I'll do with you, though," he added distastefully.

_Great_, Gordon thought shakily. It was decided. They were officially with a psychopath. "Let me make one thing clear," the man said, grabbing Gordon by his chin. "If you disobey me, I'll beat Alan. I have no qualms hurting him. My wife might not be too happy, but I don't care. Clear?"

"Crystal," Gordon responded.

_This was so not good. _

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><p><em><em>Challenge: Will Gordon cooperate, or will he make a mistake and will Alan be punished for it?_  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

_A kind thank-you to everyone who is still reading. I apologize for my lack of updates, and if not for people who have recently started reviewing, I still might not have had the energy to update this one. I'm participating in National Novel Month and I am 30,000 words through my novel (actually, 31,495 words if you're interested), but I'm still plowing ahead. With the time and energy that takes each day from me, it's been very difficult to update or work on fanfiction. I apologize for the delay and hope you'll still remain with me. Expect quick updates after November ends - I have a break from school then! _

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><p>Gordon hung his head as he looked at the man. They had been there one week, and had still not been found. How could this have turned into such a troublesome time? Taking a deep breath, Gordon exhaled forcefully and turned to Alan. "It'll be okay," he said. The man slammed the door, and Gordon could hear the lock click shut.<p>

God, please help us, Gordon thought. We have to get out of here, if only for Alan's sake. I'm tired of this, too! I want to sound like a whiny sixteen year old kid. I just want to see my family and my friends again.

The sixteen-year-old had to pause and take a deep breath to calm himself down before he looked at his younger brother.

The eleven-year-old had a tear run down his face, and Gordon's heart darkened instantly at the man who was holding him captive. Apparently, the story that the mother was going to be watching over them was a farce; a total fake. The mother had left within two days of them being here, and they had been left with the man ever since. Gordon had not been allowed to talk on phone with his father, and he wanted desperately to hear his father's voice.

Swallowing hard, Gordon knelt down to his brother. Alan had a black eye, and, having been revealed after Gordon left his shirt, a hand-shaped sized bruise on top of his stomach. Gordon had tried three times to escape. Twice had been with Alan. Once had been without Alan. All of them had ended in failure.

The first time Gordon had tried to escape, he'd tried to do something simple: go out the front door, his eleven-year-old brother in toe, while the man was distracted. That had not worked. The second time that Gordon had tried to escape he'd tried to do something a little more complicated: he'd tried to sneak out the back door when he THOUGHT the man should have been sleeping. That clearly had not been the case; the man had been wide awake. Gordon forcefully exhaled as he hugged his younger brother. "Alan, listen to me," Gordon said slowly.

Alan lifted his eyes up. "I h-h-hate him," he said, and buried his face into Gordon's already soaked shirt. The shirt was soaked from Alan's tears, as Alan had been clinging to Gordon's shirt the entire time the man had been lecturing them.

Flashback

"I can't believe that you would dare try something so stupid again, especially not taking your little brother with you," the man sneered. "Don't you care about him? You don't really seem to care about him here. Maybe I should just, I don't know, kill him off." That was when Alan's sobbing had started. The eleven year old, already under the stress and trauma of the previous days, allowed a tear to run down his face. He gulped, trying to conceal his sobs. The man - Gordon thought Jericho was his name - wasn't big on crying and had not hesitated to beat Alan for crying in the past.

Gordon didn't know who this sicko was, but he was ruining his life and the life of his younger brother.

"For that little stint, I'll see to it that you and your brother get absolutely nothing to eat," the man sneered. With that, he backhanded Gordon. He moved to shove Gordon to the floor, causing the teen boy to wince as Alan toppled over top of him. "You will starve tonight. Happy now?"

end flashback

Gordon took a deep breath as he carefully raised his finger and gently touched his brother's face. "I know you do, Alan," he said. He didn't say his unspoken thoughts: I know you hate him because I do, too. "I know you do, Alan. I'm sorry that we can't eat tonight."

Alan sniffled again. "Not hungry anyway," he said, clinging tighter to his brother. Gordon's concern grew. In the past week, Alan had regressed to the behavior of that of a nine year old, sometimes verging on the behavior of a seven or eight year old. Gordon's theory - and he hoped it was true - was that due to the trauma, Alan was acting out in ways he had not before. The problem was that time would only tell whether or not Gordon's theory was accurate.

Alan wasn't eating very much. It had taken Gordon an hour to practically force feed the eleven year old the peanut butter and jelly that he would have normally consumed within minutes prior to this abduction. Gordon had also noticed that Alan was becoming more clingy than usual, especially whenever the man was around. When the man decided to randomly barge into their room, Alan would stop what he was doing and instantly leap and cling to Gordon's stomach. Gordon wouldn't have minded if the move had protected Alan, but whenever the man was upset with Alan and just wanted to hurt someone, he wouldn't hesitate to take his anger out on the eleven year old by sentencing him to a beating.

"Alan, tell me what happened earlier, please," Gordon said, hoping his voice sounded soothing and not angry. Earlier that morning the man had come in the room sporting a face that was as red as a radish. He had clenched hands and appeared on the outside very, very angry. He'd backhanded Alan before he even left the room, and now he had a black eye and a bruised rib cage. Gordon desperately needed to know what happened.

"He made me talk to Daddy."

Gordon's heart soured. That meant their father knew they were missing. (Well, okay. Gordon knew that their father would have figured out that they were missing a long time ago, but hey; this meant that their father knew that they were REALLY missing, and were unable to get help for themselves, and hopefully, that they'd been kidnapped by a maniac.) "What did he make you say?"

"He made me s-say that... I don't know. I don't remember." Alan burst into tears, again, and Gordon forced himself not to sigh heavily. "He made me speak to him once before, too. I hate him, Gordon! I just want to go home!"

"I know, buddy," Gordon muttered soothingly, rubbing circles on his younger brother's back, "I do too... I do to."

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy paced the hall anxiously. He had heard Alan's voice on the phone only minutes before, and they had finally gotten a trace this time. He and his brothers had been looking for Gordon and Alan for a week with virtually no luck. He knew that if things didn't improve soon, they'd totally loose their chance to find him and that was driving him insane. "Any luck?" he questioned, glancing at the police officer.<p>

"Some," the police officer said, but he didn't divulge too much. Even though Scott was over twenty years old, most of the police officers put off his questions and demanded that they speak to someone superior, a move that infuriated Scott. "Is your father around?" His sentence spoke contempt to Scott; the only thing he needed to add to that sentence was a sneer in his voice.

"Officer, within the past week, when has he not been around?" Scott returned. He winced; he hadn't meant to sound so sharp. "Yeah, he's recovering in the recovery room." With that, Scott slumped down in the black chair next to John, knowing that the police wouldn't give him any answers.

"I'm so sick of this," John muttered as he buried his face in his hands. "I can't help but think that this is my fault somehow. Maybe if I hadn't decided to go off to college or something..."

"John." Scott lifted his brother's chin up using the palm of his hand. "This isn't your fault. Look, we're still trying to piece together what happened. We know we saw the man leaving with Gordon and Alan in the hotel. We have his face plastered all over the damn news. We're just waiting on time, now. My gut instinct says this man was waiting for a long time to get hold of Alan, and he didn't mind saying that he was there. It's nobody's fault but this maniac's."

"I guess," John said uncertainly.

"You know," Scott said, meeting his brother's eyes before he glanced at Virgil.

"Did we get anything?" Virgil asked, having just come from the bathroom. All of the boys were shaken by the crying that they had heard on the phone from their youngest brother. Scott personally wanted to know why the man would not let them speak to Gordon, but he didn't dare voice that thought out loud. Not now.

"I don't know. The kind officer was going to get our father before he spoke to me." Scott knew the contempt in his voice was clear and he didn't try to disguise it.

The officer returned with their father in toe. "We have narrowed the location down to an approximate CITY of where we believe Alan and possibly Gordon Tracy are being held."

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><p>I humbly say thank you to all who review.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

The man glared at Gordon with every fiber of his being. It was as if every single thing was Gordon's fault. That was how the man's glare made him feel. He also had a nice, solid black bruise to mark that the man was very, very unhappy.

For whatever reason, the man had decided to separate Gordon and Alan. Gordon knew that was _not _a good thing. He'd tried to antagonize the man, to draw him towards Gordon and not Alan (which was probably why his ribs ached), and he was trying to figure out what this man's sick motive was. Why did the man suddenly want Gordon and Alan held captive?

What had they done wrong? Why were they, out of a city of hundreds of thousands of people, chosen to play this sick game? Gordon knew there was a reason for it. (He knew there was a name for it, too. The name was _psychopath.) _Taking a deep, unsolicited breath, he held his breath for about five seconds and then released it.

_I can do this; I can do this; I can do this._

There was no "could" about this situation though. He _had_ to do this. He had to do this because of Alan. Alan couldn't go through this alone. Okay, well, Gordon knew that Alan could survive this alone just fine. But he didn't want Alan to be alone.

Suddenly, without warning, the door opened. A phone was shoved in his face. "Well, well, well." Their captor said. The only good that had come out of Gordon's abduction was that he had protected Alan a few times from this sick psychopath.

And he'd given comfort to Alan after the man had beaten him.

At least the man hadn't done anything to Alan besides beat him.

That much knowledge, that news, had given Gordon extreme relief.

He took a deep breath once more and turned around to face the man. "You are going to make a call."

"You want me to make a call? Not a problem," Gordon responded, even though inside his heart was going _pound – pound – pound – pound – pound – pound – pound. _"I'm sure that I can do that. By myself. Alone. And for my phone a friend, I'd like to dial 911."

"Aw, aren't you cute. You know, I used to wish you were my own child."

_Yup, clearly a psychopath_.

"I used to spend hours when Alan was born, fantasizing about adopting him as my own."

_A really sick psychopath._

_With delusional tendencies._

_Probably. _

"And you know why I feel as though Alan is my own?"

"I'm not sure I want to," Gordon said, even though he desperately needed to know. Why the man felt that fantasizing about Alan being his own would be… interesting – and it may even lead the key to who he was.

And knowing who the man was would no doubt help Gordon escape.

With Alan.

Alive.

That was the one thing in this situation that Gordon refused to budge on. If he couldn't leave with his little brother, he wasn't leaving alone.

He feared the dark night wrath of Scott.

"Because I am your _uncle_, Gordon."

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy nervously rubbed the cloth over his brow. It had been what – three weeks with no leads? It was all he could do not to blame himself for Alan and Gordon's disappearance. He had blamed himself for letting Gordon stay at a motel alone. Even though he and Scott had (privately) acknowledged that Gordon could be responsible in theory, both knew the sixteen year old boy was not responsible for plotting and planning out a crime.<p>

Sure, he could plot and plan out pranks, but that was about it.

One of the officers had asked Jeff if Gordon could be the unsub. "Un-sub?" Jeff had asked, having gone about 20 hours without sleep at that point.

"Unknown subject. Err, the kidnapper."

"You think my _son_, who was kidnapped by the hands of this _man, _is the kidnapper you are looking for? Do you not realize who I am? Gordon knows that I have _every resource _in the world looking for him – and his brother – and if you suggest one more time that any of my kids are involved in this, I swear to God I will rip your head off!"

"Dad. Hey. He asked the same question we did." Scott, who was his ever present companion, looked as just as weary and tired as Jeff did. "We can't rip off his throat for him trying to solve the case."

"I still don't like that he blamed Gordon."

"He didn't blame Gordon, Dad. He questioned Gordon. We did the same thing – even though both of us know that he could never and would never do such a thing." Scott had nodded at the officer, dismissing him.

_Where was Alan?_

* * *

><p>Scott hung his head as he looked at the mirror in the bathroom at the police station.<p>

Three weeks.

Three weeks with no leads, with no clues.

This wasn't good.

If they didn't get back the person who was responsible…. If they couldn't find Alan and Gordon alive… Scott didn't know what to do.

John had gone on a statistics rampage, looking information up about the survival rate of kidnappings. Scott had nearly punched him for that. _"I don't care what the statistics say, John. Alan and Gordon are NOT statistics. They are FAMILY_."

Family that Scott was deeply worried about right now.

The door swung open and Scott glanced up, splashing water on the face. He didn't blink at the uniformed officer's full gear – he and his family were well used to seeing that by now. A sharp, steady inhale of breath told Scott that the officer had seen him and knew exactly who it was.

"Long night, eh?" the man said.

"Yeah," Scott replied, looking at the man wearily. A few of the law enforcement officers had tried to "cousel" their family. That had never ended well.

"You know, I can solve your problem for you."

Scott turned to face the man. "My problem?"

"Yes. I know you've wanted to see for so long where Alan is. I can take you to him. Your brother, he is Pure."

"If you did anything to my brother-"

The man smiled and put his finger against Scott's lips, causing a chill to run down Scott's spine. "I shall take you to your brother. Do me one favor and wait right here while I use the bathroom. If you say anything to anyone, I will not take you and Alan will die."

_Wonderful._

Scott swallowed hard, grabbing a marker that he randomly had in his pocket. He had to leave a clue somehow, somewhere. He glanced at the wall in back of the mirror and then at the bathroom stall.

It was his only hope.

He approached the wall, feeling like he was about to commit a crime for the graffiti he was about to do – in a police station no less – but he had to leave a clue.

In block print, he said, ALAN = POLICE OFFICER JENKINS

JENKINS THINKS 'PURE' – ST

That was the best he could do. Anything more, anything bigger and the man would notice it.

"Hands behind your back," the man snapped.

_Remember, it's for Alan… this scumbag won't tell you where he is unless you go with him._

* * *

><p>Alan sniffled once more, looking around the room. Unlike Gordon's surroundings that were more basement like, it was clear that this room had been specifically designed for him. It had many of the toys he liked.<p>

But Alan didn't want to play with those.

He wanted to go home.

Home, home, home.

The door opened and Alan back-tracked. This man wasn't at all like his daddy. He was scary and – and mean! Alan winced as the man shoved someone forward onto the floor.

He recognized who it was within seconds.

"Scottie!" He said, racing forward to him. He was backhanded roughly and shoved.

"Leave Alan alone," Scott said. Alan shivered. That was the Tone Of Voice that Scott used when he Really Meant Business and Wanted to Kill Someone. At least according to Gordon. He had once asked Gordon what "killing" was, and Gordon had faltered. He had told Gordon to go ask Scott.

Except he hadn't. He had seen someone killed on television.

They were dead, as in gone.

"I would never dream of such a thing." With that, Scott's handcuffs were released. "You enjoy your free time. I'll be back later with some food. It does me good pleasure to be a servant to you boys. Your uncle loves you very, very much."

_He's not our uncle._

As Scott embraced Alan, Alan found himself witich a vital and important question. "Scott?" he asked, his lips quivering. A tear slowly rolled down his face and Scott brushed it away. "Where's Gordon?"

Scott tensed. The only thing he could think of was, _if Alan didn't know where Gordon was, that was so not good…. _

* * *

><p>Well, forgive me for my lack of updates. My November novel writing month is finished at the moment, though. I have won the first time that I participated with 50,325 words! I'm very excited. I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter.<p>

My question: Which two characters would you like to see the most of in the next chapter, besides Alan?


	5. Chapter 5

Gordon was awoken abruptly by a rough shake on his shoulder. He and Alan had been separated two days ago, and he didn't know where Alan had been taken. He'd been dumped down in this crappy old basement without any food or water, and hated to admit it, but he was both extremely hungry and thirsty and wanted something to eat and drink.

He'd said the words "I'm starving" a thousand times before, but none of those times had he ever been this hungry or this thirsty. Gordon had honestly thought he would be left to die.

Even though Gordon hated the man before him, it was such a relief to see another human being again that Gordon was… well, grateful was the wrong word. Furious was probably more like it. Even so, he kept his mouth shut.

The man handed him a glass of water and a greasy McDonald's hamburger. "Here you go," the man said. At Gordon's look, he said, "Don't worry, it isn't drugged. After all, I want you to see your little brother again."

Gordon breathed an inward sigh of relief as he ripped open the wrapper on the hamburger, grateful for some food. He ate it slowly and carefully, despite being hungry. He'd listened to Virgil's lectures one too many times on people who had eaten too much after being starved. After he had finished the hamburger, he gratefully drank the water.

"Thank you," he told the man, even though thanking the man was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now. He didn't want to get on the man's bad side. Not if _that_ was going to be the consequence. Gordon had tried every maneuver he knew to get out of the basement, but none of them had worked.

After two days of being in the dark, dingy cold, Gordon vowed he'd never complain about how hot it was again.

The man smiled at him and rubbed his hand through Gordon's hair. Gordon pulled back, sick to his stomach. He was two seconds away from yelling at the man to leave him alone when the man responded, "Ah, teenagers. Wouldn't you like to see your brothers now?"

"Yes, please," Gordon said, standing up. He didn't _want_ to be polite, but he did want to see Alan and…. Wait. Did the man say brothers?

"Yes, brothers," the man responded. "Your eldest brother, Scott, has decided to come join us. I've gotten back what Jeff stole from me." With that, he closed the basement door. Gordon turned around and stared at the man.

"What do you mean?" he asked, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his unease with the man's statement.

"You, Scott, and Alan… Alan isn't really your younger brother."

Gordon gave the man a blank stare. The man had to be insane – Gordon had witnessed Alan's birth himself, for heaven's sakes. And he knew Scott had, because Scott had told Gordon all the details about the birth that Gordon had missed out on, and really didn't want to know anyway. "What?" he questioned.

"Ah, ah, ah, now is not the time for questions," the man said with a smile. "Scott will fill you in. Tomorrow, we're moving to our new home, to start our life as a family."

_That was so not good._

_And so horribly cliché. _

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it," John said as he paced the hotel room. "There must be some reason why the man came after Scott, and why Scott went with him without a fight."<p>

"You're thinking the case has to be connected," Virgil muttered as he pushed the off button on the television, which was displaying the current news that Jeff Tracy's _third _son was hiding.

"There was no sign of struggle. The last place we knew where Scott was, remember? He had to have gotten him from the police station."

"Yeah… but how?" Virgil responded, a confused and dazed look in his eye. John sighed. Both of them really needed some sleep, but they just couldn't rest, despite the fact that that was what they'd been sent back to the hotel to do.

"He must've been involved somehow," John suggested. "He must have threatened Scott with something. Otherwise Scott would have put up a heck of a fight."

"I know, I just don't know…. I mean, I wish there was some huge clue that would smack us in the face. If someone who wasn't a police officer took Scott, we'd know about it. The security cameras would catch him."

"The last person they saw Scott leaving with was a police officer," John reminded Virgil.

Virgil sat up and stretched. "That's just it, John. Scott left with a police officer. Why would he do that? We were all inside."

"We need to take another look at that bathroom," John responded.

"Dad doesn't want us in there," Virgil reminded John. Jeff was in the second room that they'd reserved sleeping.

"What dad doesn't know won't hurt him," John responded with more confidence than he felt like he had. At Virgil's look, John said, "Come on! I can't just do _nothing _while our baby brother is being tortured! And Scott – okay, Scott has a clear head most of the time, but if this man is torturing Gordon and Alan…"

"Point taken," Virgil muttered darkly. Hopefully, if they found Scott, Gordon and Alan quick enough, Scott wouldn't hurt the psychopath too badly, and they could let justice deal with him. It wasn't that Virgil didn't want to kill the man himself; he just didn't want to be charged with murder. "Alright, so how do we get to the police station?"

"Gordon's car," John said, dangling the keys in front of Virgil's face.

Virgil snatched the keys from John, holding up the key. "Perfect. You know, I'm glad that he brought a low profile car after all. It will blend into this neighborhood and we won't have to worry about anyone stealing it."

"And, if worst comes to worst, you can replace it with your allowance," Virgil responded. "Come on. Let's go."

"How come you want to drive?"

"Because I'm older than you."

"That's a lame excuse," John muttered as he threw on a jacket and closed the door.

"I know. Now shut up and don't say anything. If anyone asks, we're going to grab something to eat."

"The hotel has a restaurant," Virgil reminded John patiently.

"I'm tired of eating there, too. We've eaten there _how _many times in the last few weeks?"

"Point taken. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Scott had just finally put Alan to sleep when the door to the room opened. Without a watch, Scott didn't know what time of day it was or how long he had been missing, and that really threw him off of his game. He had been relying on the small window the room had to tell him what time of day it was.<p>

"Gordon," Scott breathed as the door opened. Alan had awoken in the middle of the night both nights with nightmares, screaming that Gordon was dead. Scott didn't know what this man had planned, but he knew it was nothing good. The man had said that he wanted to get back what Jeff had stolen from him, that he was family, but Scott knew there was something more to the picture.

He just didn't know what.

"Scott! Alan," Gordon said. Scott could see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief. It didn't escape Scott's watchful eye that Gordon had probably lost about ten pounds since he'd last seen him.

* * *

><p>So, what do you think will happen next? I tried to satisfy everyone's need for characters in this chapter, except for Jeff, of course, who is currently getting rested.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I still do not own the Tracy family. All I own is this old laptop which I'm typing this up on, and a story idea. I'm really glad I don't own Scott at the moment, though...

* * *

><p>John and Virgil pulled up to the police station. "I feel really weird doing this without Dad's permission," John admitted.<p>

"Well, you went with my permission," Virgil said with a teasing grin. Both boys were over eighteen, so they could technically do what they pleased. Still, they knew they'd better tow the line to their father's commands or they would be in trouble. Just the same, this was one time where they felt like they had to do something. There was only so much sitting around the hotel they could take.

"I'm going to hit the bathroom," Virgil told John. John nodded and went to talk to the front desk, wanting to see some security footage. Virgil frowned when he looked at his brother's retreating back, but he held his comments and did his business anyway. After he was finished, he turned around, having noticed a note on the wall.

ALAN = POLICE OFFICER JENKINS

JENKINS THINKS 'PURE' – ST

"Police officer Jenkins," Virgil muttered grimly, using his camera phone to take several shots of the picture. He had been one police officer that the brothers had hated from the beginning, but still, he'd also been one of the most 'helpful', if one wanted to use that term (and Virgil didn't), police officers on the case. At least, that was what John had muttered one night. Virgil had sincerely hoped that his brother was being sarcastic.

Right now, Virgil didn't care about the man. The only thing that mattered was that the 'ST' stood for Scott Tracy. Which meant that it was very likely that Scott had been abducted in this bathroom by Officer Jenkins. He knew he couldn't alert the officers directly. He had to talk to John first.

"Hey, Virgil, what's up?" John asked as he turned to his brother. John was busy watching footage the day Scott had disappeared from the office. It was then that Virgil noticed how much older John had gotten in the past few weeks. They had all suffered as a result of Alan's disappearance. Once his little brother was found, Virgil had no doubt his father would homeschool him for awhile, if not for his entire life.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," Virgil said. He swallowed hard as he looked at the offending officer - Officer Jenkins - who was sitting within ear shot of the conversation.

"Right here, Virg, not going anywhere," John said, oblivious to his brother's growing concern.

Virgil coughed. Loudly. "John -"

"Wait," John said, raising his finger. "Look at that. There's Scott, leaving the police station after he used the bathroom. That's weird. Why is Officer Jenkins with him?"

"I think I know why, but I need to talk to you." At John's look, Virgil merely glared at him. "In private," he added with another glare.

"You are no fun," John grumbled as he paused the film and followed Virgil back to the bathroom. "What is it? I already went to the bathroom before we left."

Virgil decked his brother on the head with a folder. "Look, John, here."

"Oh my God," John sad, obviously connecting the video and the note together. "Alan=Officer Jenkins - it's a note left by Scott - Virgil, I think Scott was trying to tell us who was kidnapping him!"

"I got a picture to use as evidence," Virgil responded, "but I do not know what to do, exactly, it's all circumstantial."

John grinned. "You still have your laptop, right?"

"Yup, but I left it at the hotel... why?"

"Because," John responded, "I'm going to put my computer hacking skills to good use."

"Somehow," Virgil remarked as his brother took two more shots of the wall, "I don't think I'm going to like this."

## break ##

"Gordon," Scott breathed a sigh of relief, "thank God you're okay." He glanced at Alan, who had fallen asleep clinging to Scott's arms. Scott gently laid him down on the bed and covered him up with a blanket, brushing his hair in a loving gesture. "You had us all so, so worried about you."

At that, the sixteen year old broke into tears, a move uncharacteristic of Gordon. "But I - I - I..." he wailed, trying not to think of where this would go if he took things too personally. He took a deep breath. "He said you would all think that I would do it and that you would all think that I was guilty!" Gordon wailed.

"What?" Scott said. "Hang on, hey, hey, nobody thinks that, alright? Now take a deep breath and tell me what on earth happened."

Gordon swallowed, his Adam's apple showing in his throat. "He told me that I was bad, that you all thought I did it, that he had to punish me. So he locked me in the basement - for two days!" Gordon's anguished cry made Scott burn with anger.

"Whoa, hey, nobody thinks you did it," Scott reminded Gordon. "Nobody. Trust me. I mean, yeah, we wondered, but we all knew you didn't do it. And that thought was dismissed within the second of being planted in my head. Gordon, the man just wanted any excuse to punish you that he could get," Scott remarked.

"I hate him!" Gordon said in an anguished sob. He had been working so hard on pulling it together for Alan that he hadn't allowed himself to face the reality, the danger of the situation. Scott's heart broke for his brother, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat unsuccessfully. "I hate him! He ruined my life!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Scott said. "That's not true. Yeah, he's a douchebag, but he didn't ruin your life, Gordon. We're going to get out of here, and we're going to get past this. He's going to rot in jail for the rest of his life. Nobody blames you for what happened - not even Alan."

"Really?"

"Absolutely, kiddo. Trust me when I say that, alright?" Scott said. He winced as he saw the angry black-and-blue marks up Gordon's arm. "Let me get that first aid kit I used on Alan. It looks like I'm going to have to use it on you as well," he remarked with a worried look. He hoped they would be given more supplies, there wasn't much of it left.

"Thanks, Scott." Gordon's response to the situation worried Scott more than he wanted to admit out loud. His brother had been tortured. That much was evidently clear by the way the black-and-blue marks were. He knew that Gordon would have a long way to go to recovery.

What worried him more, though, was Alan. In the brief time he and Alan had managed to "talk," he had seen that Alan's word choices were not what they had once been, that he seemed to… Scott didn't know how to put it.

It took Scott what he estimated to be almost a bloody hour before he could calm Gordon down enough for the teenager to go to sleep. Since the man had said they would move that night, Scott packed their belongings – what meager ones he and Gordon had, anyway – into a bag. He packed Alan's belongings into a separate suitcase that had been left for him there by the man. The thing that freaked Scott out the most was that the abduction seemed to have been planned just for Alan. Why? Why was Alan so special to the sicko?

Suddenly, the door creaked open. "I'm impressed," the man remarked, "you managed to get them both ready. Well done."

Scott didn't bother responding, knowing he would loose his temper if he opened his mouth, so he opted to glare at the man instead. He then decided that the man looked like he was willing to talk tonight, so maybe he could use the time for talking.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I'm offended, Scott. You don't recognize me? You were the only one of the boys to see me..."

"I really still don't remember you," Scott remarked, his voice tense as he tried to think of where he could have possibly seen the man before.

"Why, Scott. I'm offended. I'm not quite your uncle, as I told Gordon. I am, however, your father's older brother. Remember, the alcoholic?"

Scott's blood chilled. Yes, he remembered his father's older brother - he'd only met him twice, and each time the man had smacked him so hard that his father had ordered the man out of his house. The second time the man had smacked Scott, his father had told the man never to come back. "I remember you," Scott responded, his eyes wide as he thought of what this could possibly mean.

"Well, alcohol wasn't the only thing I was into; I suppose I was into drugs as well - I still am, actually. They're good stuff. But I quit the alcohol like your father said. And now, I'm ready to take custody of you three kids. What do you think?"

It was all Scott could do not to stare at the man in shock. He tried and failed. He remembered after his mother's funeral how this guy had offered to "help" Jeff with his children. Jeff had said no. Now it looked like he was getting payback. "So why only us three?" he asked, a lump in his throat.

"Well, at first it was only going to be Alan. Then I found Gordon at the hotel. I had to punish him for getting in my way, of course. Then, when you wondered off from your brothers, I couldn't resist. I had to have you, too. Don't worry, I'll leave Virgil and John alone. We're going to leave tonight. Tomorrow we'll start our new life together."

"You're sick," Scott said, trying to desperately catch his breath. "Your plan will never work."

"It won't?" the man sneered. "It has for three weeks already. Grab Alan and Alan's bag, and I'll take care of getting Gordon and this bag in the car. Tomorrow, we'll be at my house for real, and then I can finally start raising you as the family you ought to be."

All that Scott could think of was _oh, shit._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, there you have it! Are the clues starting to sink in?_


	7. Chapter 7

Scott heaved a frustrated sigh. "Gordon," he said, "we've got to get out of here." Gordon and Alan had been missing three weeks and four days by Scott's best estimate. Scott himself had been missing what he thought was four. They had not been found.

"You think I don't know that?" Gordon hissed, his fist clenching. Scott pressed a "shh" finger to his lips and pointed at Alan, who was peacefully sleeping on the bed. It had taken Scott nearly half an hour for him to get Alan to sleep.

"Deep breaths, dude. Deep breaths," Scott said, flashing an award-wining smile at his younger brother. Gordon responded by smacking him, which only made Scott roll his eyes. He gestured towards their cots, which they'd put away from Alan's bed so that they could have conversations without him waking up.

"I know we have to get out of here!" Gordon responded once more as he looked at Scott. Scott exhaled forcefully, trying to think about how to calm Gordon down so that Gordon would listen to his plan.

The man had started telling Alan that he was really Alan's daddy, that Jeff wasn't Alan's father, and that Scott and Gordon were liars when they told Alan that the man was lying. Alan was a big, emotional wreck. It was like pulling teeth for Scott to be able to get a few words out of him, whereas normally he was a happy, talkative eleven-year-old. It worried Scott. He tried not to show his worry to Gordon, but he was pretty sure the observant sixteen-year-old would know, anyway. He knew Gordon was worried about Alan himself.

"Okay, I have an idea for how we might get out of here," Scott said. He was tired of being cramped up in the house.

"Yeah?" Gordon questioned, suddenly all ears as he raised his eyebrows. "We're not leaving Alan though – right?"

"No. No. Look, that's the one thing we can both agree on - that we're not leaving Alan. I don't want to do that. I was thinking that one of us should somehow break away. I just don't know how. I think you should go, though."

Gordon bit the cold sore on the inside of his lip nervously. "Why not you?" he asked.

"I wouldn't feel right leaving you and Alan here."

"Oh, and you think I feel right leaving Alan here?" Gordon questioned.

"Hey, hey, no, you know I didn't mean that. I'm not trying to hurt you here, Gordon. What happened with you and Zombie Face earlier today?" Scott asked, knowing there had to something that had happened between him and the unnamed criminal.

"I… he…" Gordon swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I…"

Scott raised an eyebrow and gently lifted Gordon's chin, revealing the black-and-blue marks that were on Gordon's throat. "Gordon," he whispered, his mouth dropping open. "What happened?"

Gordon closed his eyes and slowly took off his coat. Scott felt his anger grow at the man who was holding him hostage. How _dare_ he do this to his younger brothers? What gave him the right to lock them in a room and treat them like they were next to nothing? He would give anything – even his own life – to set his two younger brothers free.

"What happened?" Scott asked, more gently this time.

Gordon looked down at the ground. "ItoldhimIdidn'twanthimtobehisson."

"What?" Scott asked, sure he didn't hear his younger brother right.

Gordon sighed forcefully. "I said I didn't want to be his son."

"And he did _that_ to you?" Scott asked, his jaw dropping open. He didn't know why he was surprised. Alan had had a typical, eleven-year-old temper tantrum when the man had said he had legally adopted Alan, and had spent an hour screaming at the top of his lungs that _no, _the man wasn't his daddy.

Scott, who had been making breakfast at the time, had heard the argument and tried to break it up. He'd ended up forced into the closet, locked behind a wooden door and forced to listen to Alan scream. He was pretty sure the eleven-year-old had sprained his arm, but they were out of first aid supplies and the man wasn't in the mood to give him anything that could help Alan.

Gordon nodded.

Scott closed his eyes and then opened them after he thought he heard movement. Gordon was lifting up his t-shirt to change. He had black and blue marks all over his back, too. His beating was a thousand times worse than Alan's had been. Okay, perhaps a thousand times worse was a bit of a stretch, but it was not good.

Scott was furious. Now they would have to wait a few days to attempt to make an escape. There was no way he would be sending out Gordon for an escape when he looked like that, and there was no way he was leaving his two little brothers. They would have to hope for a chance for an emergency phone call or something.

While Scott swallowed his fury, he watched his younger brother put on a different shirt. There was nothing they could do for Gordon's back. Scott couldn't even give his younger brother some painkiller. They didn't have any.

Not for the first time, Scott cursed the man who was holding them hostage and prayed to anyone who would listen that the brothers could _just get out of there_.

* * *

><p>John slumped down in his seat and watched as Virgil worked his magic on the computer. They had taken their evidence to their father and the local police station. The police were saying, "there's no proof that the man who Scott wrote abducted him." The FBI – and one Don Eppes – were coming down really hard on the man, saying the evidence looked really convincing. After all, he had been the last one to leave with Scott, so all the evidence pointed this way.<p>

"I can't believe that he wasn't there when they went to talk to him!" Virgil fumed, plugging in buttons on the computer. "He had to have realized we were onto him. But how?"

"I don't know," John responded. He sighed, giving up on the thought of getting any rest. Their brothers had been missing for three and a half weeks now – well, technically, Alan and Gordon had been missing for more than that and Scott had been missing for almost five days.

"Why would he take Alan?" Virgil demanded, turning around to face John while he waited for the computer to work.

John shrugged. "You're looking at the wrong…." His voice suddenly trailed off as the computer stopped. "Move over."

"What?"

"Move over. I have an idea."

"Okay…." Virgil said, raising his eyebrow. "I'm going to go get another cup of coffee."

John didn't say anything, but hastily typed information into Virgil's search program. When he finished looking it up, his information that he dreaded was right. "Virgil, I think I know why that police officer took Scott – and I think I'm pretty sure he took Gordon and Alan, too."

"Why?" Virgil asked with a raise of his eyebrow, taking a deep drink of his coffee.

"Because," John declared triumphantly, "Police Officer Jenkins is not really Police Officer Jenkins at all. Well, he sort-of is. He is Police Officer Jenkins-Tracy, and he is Dad's half brother."

"That would make him our uncle," Virgil said, looking on at the screen in horror. His coffee cup was set down on the table, totally untouched.

John nodded. "Affirmative. We need to talk to Dad. He may know where Jenkins could be hiding, even if he thinks he doesn't."

"How are we going to tell him where we got this information from?"

"We'll find some creative way to explain it," John said with a shrug as he printed it out and left the hotel room. God, he hated hotels. But, given the fact that his situation was much better than that of his three missing brothers', he really couldn't complain.

* * *

><p>I had a bit of free time so decided to update this story. Hope that you enjoyed.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Had a bit of spare time tonight, and I wanted to update... Hence, the update. Do enjoy.

* * *

><p>Scott took a sip of water from the bottle he had and slowly drank of it. He, Gordon and Alan had been moved yet again. Scott was trying not to think about the possibility of them spending the rest of their life with this man. He just couldn't think like that. He knew that if he thought that way, he would be condemning them all to live here and possibly die here, and he knew it. He just didn't know how they were going to get out of there.<p>

He sighed, watching Gordon sleep semi-peacefully in the corner. They had either upgraded from cots to mattresses on the floor or had been downgraded to such; Scott couldn't really tell. He took another sip of water. Even Alan had a mattress now, not a bed.

Scott had to wonder if it was because they weren't giving into the man's claims that they were his father. The only nice thing about being moved was that they had a bathroom in their prison and three cups – they could each get water from the tap daily. Scott swallowed another gulp and wished again he was at home.

Whatever the reason, the man had many habits that were worrisome to Scott. The number one worrisome habit, of course, that the man was holding his brothers flipping _hostage_. How did someone just hold one hostage? Scott could not attempt to understand.

Taking a deep breath, Scott flexed his wrist a little bit. It was still sore from yesterday's beating. Scott had pleaded with the man not to hurt Alan, and he had been brutally punished, although the man had said he would consider hurting Alan a bit less. If the man actually followed through, that would make it that much more worth it to him, though.

Gordon seemed to be doing better at the new location. It probably helped that the were being fed what Scott estimated to be twice a day. While he and his brothers didn't have much to do – something that was difficult for Scott to get used too – at least they could be semi-productive. Whoever had been in this room last had left plenty of books.

Scott was trying to hold mini therapy sessions with Alan – as therapeutic as he could be; it wasn't like he was trained in this skill. He was learning rapidly what did and didn't work with his younger brother, though. Sometimes, if he started off right, Alan would talk. If he started off a sentence wrong, Alan would shut down and not talk to him at all. Seeing the formerly talkative eleven-year-old so silent worried Scott more than he wanted to admit.

Even _Gordon_ was more quiet than usual.

Both Gordon and Alan were allowed to go 'out' with the man. Scott didn't really know what they did, and he didn't push. Alan refused to talk about the man at all and would fly into a screaming rage if Scott even mentioned him. Gordon usually returned from his time with the man more sullen than before and even more depressed.

Scott stayed faithful. He stayed faithful that his brothers would find him. That they would rescue him. He wanted desperately to attempt escape, but since their move here four days ago – was it really only that long ago? It had felt like years; - he had been stuck here behind a door.

And he wanted _out_. The need for the escape, the drive, fueled Scott, along with righteous anger that his two younger brothers were being hurt. He knew something had to be done – he just didn't know what.

* * *

><p>"I got a location!" John said excitedly as he waved Virgil over towards the computer. Their father had been shocked to learn that they suspected his brother had been guilty of kidnapping Alan, but he couldn't deny that his brother had been the one walking out the door with Scott, and possibly the last one to see him alive, too.<p>

"Finally," Virgil muttered. It had been four frustrating, trying days since they'd realized who had taken Scott, Alan and Gordon. All he had wanted to do was see his brothers again. He was especially worried for Alan – what the hell had Scott meant by the fact that Jenkins thought his youngest brother was _pure_?

Virgil wasn't sure he wanted to know that part. What mattered now was that they had a lead. And finally, an address. He vowed never to make fun of John's computer skills again.

Well, at least not until they found Gordon, Alan and Scott anyway.

Scott had been missing just over a week, although it had felt much longer. Gordon and Alan had been missing now for a month.

Their father had been devastated when he had realized his brother had been responsible for the kidnapping.

"_We broke off conversation a long time ago – way before he joined the police force – right when he was eighteen, after I had just married your mother. He was so angry that I had married Lucy and he had kept trying to take her away from me that we just both mutually agreed that not contacting each other for awhile would be best… somehow, awhile has turned into twenty years and, Oh, God… I didn't even recognize him."_

"How far away is the address?"

"Twenty miles," John said. "I'm doubtful this is his address where he's keeping them, but it's the only one on file. What do you think?"

Virgil bit his lip, wishing they could get his father's opinion, but he had gone to bed and Virgil did not want to wake him. "I don't feel like we should call the local police on this one," he said slowly. "I'm not saying that they're evil, but they weren't exactly a lot of help when we thought it was him in the first place."

"Well, let's go check it out ourselves. You said it was only twenty miles, and we both have driver's licenses," John quipped as he printed out the MapQuest

"I'm not sure it's such a good idea…" Virgil said, being hesitant. Until they could find Scott, he was going to be the Worried Older Brother. And the responsible one. Naturally, he hoped that they could find Scott soon. He wasn't used to this role.

"Come on, worry wart. It's not like he'll really be there. Besides, I want to find Scott and Alan and Gordon – don't you?" John asked. Virgil could see that his eyes were laced with worry.

"Fine. Let's go," he said, giving in. Somehow he knew he was going to regret this.


	9. Chapter 9

The two Tracy boys were in there car and headed down to the house. Both boys were nervous. They also knew they just couldn't call the cops. While the cops had agreed that the man's behaviors were suspicious, there was nothing that they could do to arrest the man.

"_Just because you saw him walking out of the police station with Scott doesn't mean he's kidnapped Scott. We have no proof of him threatening Scott in any way, shape or form."_

_Virgil had snorted at that and would have walked out if not for John's words: "Oh, and there isn't a 'we protect our own' oath you take, or something?"_

Flashing back to the present now, Virgil observed his younger brother as he drove Gordon's car along. He could tell that his older brother was tense and terse and was slightly agitated from the way that he was gripping the steering wheel.

"What do we need to talk about before we get to the house?" Virgil questioned, looking at his brother directly. He knew that if John went in there extremely agitated and tense as he was, he would be ready to murder someone, and that would not be a good thing. Sure, he didn't about the man holding his brothers hostage - he cared about making sure John did not spend the rest of his life in prison.

John clenched his teeth. "I'm angry at Dad. How come he never told us he had an uncle, Virgil? How come he didn't happen to recognize the man when we got to the police station? How come there was no happy reunion?"

"Well, you heard Dad speak - they hadn't seen each other in years, and Dad was really, really upset at him... Not justifying Dad here, but he probably just didn't want to bring up old baggage," Virgil guessed.

"Yeah..." John let out a sigh.

He sighed as he looked at John's unwavering anger that could be clearly seen, even though his brother wasn't attempting to communicate it.. "Look, let's just focus on the good here, alright? The good is that we have a lead - let's deal with Dad later. He's exhausted, Virgil. He has been missing Alan and Gordon for what - four weeks now? Scott for a week? They've been gone for a month. We're all a wreck. Not justifying Dad; I'm just saying, _listen to reason_ - don't let your anger at Dad get in the way of helping Gordon, Alan, and Scott."

"Damn," John said, glancing at his brother and almost missing the turn. Gordon would kill him if they got a scratch on his dented baby. "I know. I know. It's a good thing you're here, though."

Virgil flashed him a smile. "By the way, do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Remember to use your turn signals. I don't want a cop to pull you over, find out you're the famous son of _Jefferson Tracy_, and wonder why you're driving this car. They'll probably think you stole it."

John just rolled his eyes and did as he was told.

* * *

><p>Scott sighed as he made his way up the stairs. He was not sorry that he was not the man's "favorite." At least the man seemed to be treating his younger brother a little bit better, so that was good - but it was no substitute for getting out of there and going home.<p>

The man had a long talk with Scott that morning.

_Flashback_

"_Scott, I'm surprised you're still here." This had been while Scott was "helping" the man make breakfast - which translated into Scott making breakfast for Gordon, Alan and the man and the man standing over him, watching so he didn't sneak any food. Scott didn't know what he'd done, but he was definitely in the man's "bad" book once more._

"_You haven't really given me much of a choice," Scott said, gingerly touching his black eye as he made his way to the sink. He was trying to figure out this man's motives. Okay, sure, he wanted to get back at Jeff, who was healthy, wealthy, and everything he was not; Scott got that. But why kidnap the three of them and then not demand anything? Why not demand some sort of ransom, if money was what he was really after? _

_Scott couldn't help but think there was something more sinister at play here - he just didn't know what it was._

"_Well, if I gave you a choice, you'd run off. Or you wouldn't like it."_

_Scott looked at the man wearily. "What choice are you and I talking about? I think we're talking about different choices." _

_The man just snickered, making Scott feel hollow and empty inside. He had to shove his feelings of guilt away, though. Now wasn't the time to deal with them._

"_Look, your brother Alan will always be mine - but you have a choice. I will let you go."_

"_But not Alan - why me?" _

_The man smiled. "Let me explain. Gordon and Alan are under eighteen - I'm working on adopting them, legally. You're over eighteen. I can't adopt you. You can stay here as their caretaker, or I can let you go."_

"_You'd just let me go - walk out of here - no harm no foul?" Either the man was delusional or there were severe strings attached to that._

"_Yes. I would let you walk out of here in a body bag." _

_Scott buried his face in his hands. "You do realize I can't WALK out of here in a body bag, right? I'd be trapped or dead?" _

"_Fine, I would drag you out of here. You would be relieved of your duties." _

"_Let's just stop dancing around the truth - I'd be dead," Scott said. _

"_Yeah, you would."_

_- end flashback- _

Scott sighed and opened the door to Alan's room. Sometimes, watching his youngest brother sleep peacefully was the only peace he had. That and dwelling on the fact that his brothers and father were coming for them.

Given Alan's sudden wild, unpredictable mood swings (which were never violent - just scary enough that Scott knew he couldn't always count on Alan keeping calm), and Gordon's now broken leg... That was something else Scott couldn't bear to think about. The man had broken Gordon's leg because the teen had tried to crawl out the window to escape.

Watching his youngest brother sleep, Scott resolved once more that he would get Alan out of there. They had to get out of there.

* * *

><p>"We're here," Virgil announced grimly as he pulled into the driveway. "How do you want to handle this?"<p>

"I don't know," John said, looking at the house. A car was pulled in the driveway. _Someone_ was here.

"Well, we have the element of surprise..." Virgil responded, trying to feel where his younger thought they were going.

"And it won't last long." Suddenly, John broke out of his depressed mood and flashed his older brother a grin. "So... What do _you _think we should do?"

* * *

><p>AN: Well, they're at a house; but are they at the right house? Why is Alan having mood swings? How is Gordon? So many unanswered questions...

Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

Alan buried his face in the pillow and sobbed. He sobbed loud, crushing tears that he hoped the man holding them hostage heard. He hated him. He hated him. There were no other words he could describe it.

His days were rapidly melting one into another. The man was convinced he was his father and the traumatized eleven-year-old was starting to believe him. He was clinging to a life before, a life when things had been happy. When he'd been with a different daddy. But this man was telling him that that man had lied, and he was Alan's daddy.

He had said that he had adopted Alan.

Alan sniffled and wrapped his arms around the pillow. He wanted Scott. Or Gordon. Either of them would make the pain stop. And if they couldn't make the pain stop, they would make it less.

He knew _they _would never hurt him.

He sniffled as he tried to remember his other two brothers. John and Virgil. He had brief memories of them both, enough to remember that they existed. What Alan didn't realize because of his age was that the man was brainwashing him, attempting to remove all of his memories.

The door to his bedroom opened, and Alan glared at the man with daggers in his eyes. "Want. Scott. Now."

"No," the man replied. "It's time to go to bed, now."

"I want Scott! I want _Gordon_! I don't want you. I hate you! I want to go home!" Alan screamed each word, his voice rising a little bit each time. The man slapped him, causing Alan's head to recoil back.

"Shut up, you little brat! You are home now, get used to it!" The man heard a knock on the door and frowned. "Be quiet," he said to Alan. Alan ignored him and hugged the pillow even tighter, a tear running down his face.

* * *

><p>"Can I help you?" the man asked, coming outside. He knew who it was but he was playing innocent, biding his time.<p>

"My car broke down. Can you help me take a look at it?"

The man grinned, sensing a way to trap John and kidnap him for good. "Yeah, sure. But why don't you come in and call your folks first? They must be worried about yah."

John swallowed hard, not really wanting to call his father. He could, however, call Don and tell Don to get down here – that this was the man.

He sighed as he entered the house and looked around the place. It was nice enough, he supposed. But the man had Scott – or, at least, had been the last one to see Scott.

"Phone's right over there," the man said. John felt a chill rush through his bones.

_Something was wrong_. Something was really, really wrong.

He couldn't shake the hollow, empty feeling, but he turned to the phone anyway. It was then when he was grabbed from behind and a knife was held at his throat.

"Well, four of them Tracy brats down," the man responded, "one more to go. You move, and I swear to God I'll beat one of your other brothers. Sit." With that, John was roughly dropped to the floor. He was torn. Did he run? Did he try and beat the man? Where were his brothers, though? Were they here?

More importantly – how could he get word to Virgil to get him _outta here_?

He had to keep the man distracted from finding Virgil. But how? "So you have them. Scott, Gordon, and Alan."

"Like I rightfully should from the beginning." The man pulled some tape from his desk drawer and motioned for John's hands.

It was that minute when John chose to strike. He had never been one to just patiently wait around; he was always one for action. A good kick at the man's face and the man had dropped down.

"Virgil! Virgil!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Dammit, Virgil, in the kitchen!"

Two seconds later, his brother had bolted through the door. "Open window in the back yard – holy shit!" he said, ignoring his language as he found the man.

"Dude, just sit on him or something and help me tie him up!"

Virgil lunged for the rope, but the man was faster; a quick maneuver and Virgil was down. John lunged for him, grabbing his hands. "Leave my brother alone!"

The man was stronger than John, though, and pushed Virgil into him, causing John to topple down to the floor. This gave the man opportunity to draw from his leg holster and said, "We're moving. All five of us. Get up, and don't move. John, put your hands against the counter. Virgil, tie his hands."

Virgil swallowed, but knew that with the gun in the man's hands, they had no choice except for doing what they were told. Ignoring the aches and pains that shot up his spine, he bent down to get the rope that he could use to tie up his brother.

He didn't like this. He didn't like this _at all. _

"Obviously, this place is not safe. I found it. I must choose one of you to care for Alan. But I think it is best that it just be Alan, I and his caretaker." The man frowned as Virgil worked on _very slowly_ tying John's hands, trying to think how to give his brother the ease and the freedom to move hands.

"There's Scott. But he's been caring for Alan for a week, and let me tell you, he's not fun to starve and beat up. He doesn't believe the lies. And then there's Gordon, but he's been caring for Alan for so, so long." The man frowned. "Which one of you should I choose…"

"I'll do it," Virgil said, dropping the rope and turning to the man. "I'll help you take care of Alan. I have medical training," he said, knowing that would be his most valuable asset. "I can help heal him."

"Ah. It's settled, then. John, stay here. If you move, I shoot one of your other brothers. It would be nice to adopt you all, but I just don't think the courts would approve that anytime soon."

_I don't think they'd approve of one adoption, _Virgil thought, a chill running through his bone. Not to mention the little fact that everyone besides Gordon and Alan were over eighteen.

The man was clearly insane. The only problem was… how was Virgil going to now escape his wrath?

* * *

><p>AN: So, do you think the man is going to get away with Virgil and Alan - or do you think Virgil has a trick up his sleeve? Also, Criminally Charmed is right. Alan's mood swings are due to severe emotional trauma. Surprise, surprise!


	11. Chapter 11

Virgil blinked awake slowly, feeling sleepy. He guessed that the man had drugged him, somehow. He wasn't really sure what the man's deal was. He had seen Alan briefly, so he knew he was alive, but he didn't know about the fate of his younger brothers.

It was as if he had regained all of his senses at once. He blinked twice, feeling the soft, grassy ground. Something was wrong... something was wrong. He pulled himself up, ignoring the pounding headache in his head as he tried to figure out where he was. It didn't take long; the answer was clearly "in the middle of nowhere." He groaned as he got up, his head aching.

There was no Alan, there was no kidnapper. At least, if nothing else, he'd gotten a firm look at the man, so it hadn't been a totally wasted trip. He hoped against hope that his brothers were free.

Still, hope wouldn't do him much good. There were just a lot of woods. He felt the dirt underneath him on the ground and sighed as he ran the dirt through his hand, allowing himself a brief minute of pity and comfort. It was only then that he noticed that the woods themselves were dark, pitch black even.

_Dark woods_. He was alone in dark woods. Wonderful. That never met anything good in movies, did it?

Dammit.

So not cool.

Virgil pushed himself up. He felt rested, like he hadn't for weeks. That was good. He knew that he would need to conserve his strength to figure out how to get himself out of here.

And away from all the nice animals.

* * *

><p>Scott and Gordon had been both committed to the hospital. Scott, who was over eighteen and had been conscious, had signed for Gordon's leg surgery because his father wouldn't be able to get there in less than four hours. He had been happy to find his brothers. Or at least John thought that he had. John sighed, sitting back down again.<p>

He hated hospitals. He swallowed hard, wondering when his father would be here. He had managed to call both his father and the FBI, as well as the ambulance, which had taken him straight there.

Usually, when he was at a hospital, he had the ability to rely on one of his brothers. John forced a deep breath. He couldn't think like that. He was over eighteen. It was time for him to stop acting like a wimp. When their father had been depressed, right after their mother's death, Scott had to grow up really quick, and he'd had to "become a man" almost overnight. Now it was John's turn to become a man.

He sighed, checking his watch for what seemed like the _thousandth_ time. Where was his father? Shouldn't he be here by now? Shouldn't someone from the FBI be there by now? He just wanted to talk to anyone he knew...

With that, his father appeared, a worried look on his face. "John!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He allowed himself a minute of comfort, embracing himself in his father's hug. "Scott and Gordon are in surgery, and they're looking for Virgil and Alan. I'm sorry, Dad."

Jeff sighed as he looked at his son. "I'm glad that you found Scott and Gordon, son. I just wish you'd told somebody – anybody – that you were going! Why didn't you tell me? I would have helped!"

John lowered his eyes, and said all in a breath, "We just weren't sure, and..." he then gave a detailed explanation of what happened, holding his breath when he was finished.

"Wait a minute," his father stopped him. "You _tied Virgil up_?"

"What was I supposed to do, Dad? He had a gun pointed at me and at Virgil! It wasn't exactly like I had another choice!" John allowed his face to flush. He knew that this was going to happen... He closed his eyes.

"If you had called the FBI, or told me, you wold have _had_ another choice! Alan and Virgil would probably be here right now. I can't believe you, John. I thought you were more responsible than that!" Jeff saw the doctor and rose. "I'm going to talk to the doctor. Stay here and don't move. You've already caused enough trouble."

John allowed a tear to slip down his face as he hugged his chest to his knees. He hoped that eventually his father would forgive him. Right now, though, John couldn't forgive himself.

* * *

><p>Alan struggled against the man who was holding him. He hated him. The man smelled bad. And he had hurt Virgil really, really bad. He had been allowed to hug Virgil for a minute before the man had ripped Virgil out of his hands. Alan hadn't known what the man had done with Virgil, but he knew it wasn't good.<p>

He frowned when they approached the airport. Having been locked up in a house with the man, Scott and Gordon for the past – he didn't know how long – and the people unnerved him. What if they were all bad men like this man? He knew that logically they weren't. He pushed against the man as he attempted to carry him.

"I can _walk_," he said, his voice surly. He was going to let the man know _exactly_ how mad he was with him. _Exactly_ how mad. Alan swallowed hard as they approached the airport terminal. He knew what that meant. There would be people there. People meant a chance at escaping. A chance to see his family again.

_Flashback_

"_Gordon, tell me a story," Alan begged. He was sitting on his bed, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt. He was freezing. The room had no heat. Gordon was probably cold, too; he had _

_on a black hooded sweatshirt. The man hadn't complained about buying clothes for Alan but had grumbled when he had come back from Gordon. Gordon had three total outfits and only one thin, almost-threadbare sweater. At least Alan's sweater felt somewhat warm. _

"_About what, Squirt?" Gordon asked. It would take someone totally clueless to see that his brother looked extremely tired. _

_Ala remembered that once upon a time, he had protested that nickname. Now, though, the nickname reminded him of home, and anything that reminded him of home was good. "Anything." _

_Gordon grinned. "Okay. I'll tell you a story. I think you were about seven. Dad was flying us somewhere. I don't remember where. I think that's 'cuz we ended up driving. .. or was that a different trip? Anyway, you were terrified of planes." _

"_I was?"_

"_You got over it," Gordon clarified. He continued. "We had just gotten to the airport and Dad was all ready to fly. You weren't, especially when you learned that we were going to the doctor's for a check-up. I mean, we had other stuff planned, but... yeah. So we're going through the airport and you start freaking out. Scott was with us, too, not Dad. That makes this story even better... I don't know why, but suddenly you started screaming 'You're not my daddy' so loud the entire plane area... I swear that everyone who could looked at you." _

_Alan raised his eyebrow and sniffled. "Really?" he asked._

"_Yes, really." _

_End flashback_

Alan widened his eyes. If everyone had stared at him when he had been screaming "you're not my daddy" with Scott, maybe it would work here, too! It wasn't like he wanted to get on the plane with the man... Instantly, his struggle against the man increased.

"You aren't my father!" he screamed, fighting back against the man. "I hate you! Let me go! Let me _go_!"

* * *

><p>It was at this time that the Behavioral Analysis Unit team were awaiting their private jet. Normally, it was all filed up and ready to go; not this time. Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, who had gotten there to the airport early, were lounging around the lone airport gift store when Spencer Reid noticed something that caught both his eye and his memory. It was a screaming kid who looked to be... well, probably seven.<p>

"What?" Derek asked, noticing that his friend's gaze was distracted.

"Does that kid look familiar to you?" Spencer asked. He knew he was right. He knew who the kid was – Alan Tracy. He knew Alan Tracy had been kidnapped out of his hotel room and had been missing for a few weeks. This was one of those times when Spencer Reid wished he couldn't remember everything that he saw.

He glanced the tabloids, trying to think of a very fast way to prove his point to Derek. "See this?" he asked, grabbing the paper. He could hear the kid's wails about how the man wasn't his father and _had to get to him_. "It's Alan Tracy. See that kid over there? That's Alan Tracy. We've found him. And that's not his father."

"Shit," Derek muttered, grabbing his gun. "Can we borrow this?" he asked to the bubble-gum-chewing-news clerk.

"You really need to pay for it first," she started, but was cut off by Spencer Reid, who flashed his badge at her.

"FBI. Good faith."

With that, they grabbed the magazine and raced out of the building, following the man who had the kidnapped tean.

* * *

><p>So... Who thinks Jeff put his foot in his mouth, big-time?<p>

Who recognizes our guest stars from Criminal Minds?

Thanks for your review!

Oh... One last question. Who's going to force Jeff to apologize first, Gordon or Scott? o.0


	12. Chapter 12

Virgil pushed himself up off of the dirt ground. There was no use moping around about having been dumped in the woods, it wouldn't let him help find Alan any sooner. Besides, knowing John, he would be frantic with worry and probably blaming himself that he had to tie Virgil up, of which he really had no choice.

Grimacing as he pulled himself up even further with the help of… whatever it was, Virgil winced. His leg definitely throbbed. He knew that Alan's kidnapper had to be some relationship to them, but had no idea who the man was. Well, no, scratch that. He knew who the man was; he knew the man was related to them. Cousin? Uncle? Virgil really didn't know.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know, either.

He scanned the sky to see where he was, and then realized the sky wouldn't really tell him.

He moved his eyes to the ground. Wait – he knew where he was. There was a house right flicking _there_. He had been dropped off only four houses from where the man's house had been out.

How had nobody found him? This man was a freaking _idiot_.

He winced as he felt his leg catch on something. He sincerely hoped that it wasn't broken… although it most certainly felt like it was.

"Great," he muttered to himself as he began dragging his way towards the house, hoping that he wouldn't find himself in a death trap.

* * *

><p>"You mean nobody has searched around the outside of the house yet?" Don Eppes yelled, rather loudly. He buried his face in his hands. "New York Police Department has been here <em>two fucking hours<em> and hasn't searched the damn outside area of the house?"

He already knew the answer would be that they hadn't bothered. He would have these two by their _heads_. He would strangle them. And… Yeah, he'd better quit while he was ahead.

The two NYPD agents glanced wearily at each other, knowing that this was going to be a long night. "We didn't think there would be reason too. We found the boy in here, John, and the two other kids, safely in the hospital. Where were you when that happened?"

Colby Granger stepped in. "It doesn't matter who was and wasn't there. Did you forget your training? Since you can't seem to get your head together long enough, _I'll _go search the freaking outside." With that, Colby grumpily grabbed his gun and his flash light. It looked practically dark outside.

He couldn't believe the NYPD officers hadn't searched the outside. They were there for two freaking hours. What were they doing, having sex on New York's dollar bill? Later, he would discover that they hadn't even gotten to the crime scene when they said they had, and they would be at risk for losing their badge entirely.

He frowned as he saw someone outside, standing up. The kid – well, scratch that, adult – looked familiar. They really needed some in between age from 'teenager' to 'adult that held down a job.' College student? Maybe.

"Virgil Tracy?" Colby called out, recognizing the teenager instantly. "It's me, Special Agent Colby Granger. Are you okay?"

The teenager breathed a grateful smile before breaking down. "I d-d-don't know what happened. My leg hurts, a lot. I think it might be broken."

Colby's anger at the idiots who had left this teenage boy out – albeit unknowingly – in the elements. This was a freaking development. Didn't anyone check their backyard?

He was going to shoot someone. "Come on," he said. "I'll take you to the hospital and get it checked out."

Virgil only nodded.

Colby helped the teen boy back to his car, where he speed-dialed Don. "Hey, Don? It's me. I'm taking Virgil Tracy to the hospital. Yeah, I have him. Do me a favor, and arrest those guys – there may be more to that story than we know."

* * *

><p>Don flipped his phone shut. "Do you know why my agent found Virgil Tracy less than a block away from the home?"<p>

The two NYPD officers glanced nervously at each other.

"It's because you didn't do your job. I want your IDs and badges, now."

"Why?" The first one spoke up.

"Why? Because, sir, if I dare to use that term, I'm checking to make sure you're actually _legitimate_ officers of the law."

Don glared at them.

The first one spoke up. "If we give you information on the man who kidnapped Alan, do we get lighter sentences?"

"Shut up!" the second one retorted. "He's not supposed to know that the reason why we didn't want to search the outside is because we were the ones who dumped Virgil Tracy!"

* * *

><p>"Shut up, you stupid kid!" the man hollered. With that, Alan was roughly tossed next to the airplane. He felt a tear slip from his eye as he clawed at the ground. He picked himself up, desperate to use this chance to get away.<p>

"Hey!" He heard a voice say. Alan ignored it only to be grabbed again. He paled as he saw the gun again. He didn't know much about what they did, but he did know that they made even Scott and Gordon toe the line, so to speak. He knew what they did on television… he drifted off, thinking about his brothers. A tear ran down his cheek. He ignored it. He just wanted to be home.

"Let Alan Tracy go," the first man spoke up. Alan glanced up at the man actually calling him his name. For so long, the man had called him _boy_, which he knew the man wasn't actually speaking. His eyes shot up as he glanced at the newcomer. He sniffled, looking around at the ground.

"Can't do that, sorry," the man replied in a flippant matter. "He's my son, not this Alan Tracy."

"I just want to show you something," one of the FBI agents said as he put his gun away in his gun pouch. Alan glanced at him, trying to think of anything he could do to break this man's grip on him. He hated the man, he hated him.

Alan glanced up at the paper that was there. It was him. Or at least he thought it was him. He glanced nervously at the two men. Who were they? "This is Alan Tracy. That is Alan Tracy. You need to let him go."

## break ##

Scott Tracy was ready to pace by the time his father got out to his room. "Hey, Dad," he said, giving his father a weary but relieved sigh. "I'm so to see you again."

His father smiled. "I'm glad to see you too, son." Even injured, Scott could tell that something was wrong.

"Is Gordon okay?" Scott asked. "And what of Alan?"

"Gordon will be fine. He's still unconscious, though; I haven't seen him yet. Alan… they're still working on finding him and your brother."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "Virgil or John?" He asked quietly.

"Virgil," his father said softly.

Scott nodded. "What happened, Dad? You seem… upset."

Jeff raised his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you, Gordon, Virgil... Alan." He let out a tired sigh.

"But not about John?"

"John tied your brother up so he could be taken with the man!"

Scott resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Dad, this man is a complete psychopath. I have no doubt that the man held a gun to John's head and told him to do what he was told, or else. He could have even done worse things."

Jeff sank in his chair. "I guess… when I found Virgil gone… and Alan gone, too…" his phone rang, but he ignored it. "I guess that… I was just hoping that everything would be done, and it's not. That Virgil's missing, and Virgil had never been kidnapped before, and…" his phone rang again, but he ignored it.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Dad, when is the last time you have had any sleep?"

Jeff ran his hand through his hair. "Uh… I don't know. Why?"

"Trust me, you look like you need some sleep," Scott responded, "and your theories are way, way flawed. You'll understand why after you get some rest."

John chose that moment to come in the room. He avoided looking everywhere but Jeff before finally saying, "They found Alan and Virgil, Dad. They're flying here. Well, Alan's being flown here. Virgil is being driven here as we speak."

"Thank God," Jeff Tracy muttered.

Just then, a nurse walked in the room. "Sir? Your son Gordon, is awake."

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief and nodded at John. "I'll go check on him."

John embraced Scott in a hug after Jeff had left the room. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I am, too. And don't worry. Dad'll come around eventually, although it may take a few knocks in the head for him to do it." Scott smiled at him.

"How is it that you're the one in the hospital bed, but you're the one reassuring me?"

Scott smiled. "I'm just special like that."

* * *

><p>AN: So, Alan and Virgil are found. But the drama's not over. Because, come on. It's me writing this. XD

Those of you who are happy about **Numb3rs** will be happy to know I have a few **numb3rs** stories posted, those of you happy to know about **Criminal Minds** may like that I have a** Criminal Mind**s story posted. So, go hit up my profile if you're bored.

But not before you: REVIEW!

A deepest thanks to my reviewers and _Happy New Year!_


	13. Chapter 13

Alan looked wearily at the man who called himself an FBI agent. He had learned in the past few months that you could not always trust police. He had seen men who were in police uniforms before, and although his brothers had always assured him that police were good, Alan could not bring himself to trust this man.

"You're Alan Tracy, right?" the man asked softly. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his ID. The other man had handcuffed the kidnapper and was talking to local police and airport security. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid."

Alan's eyes widened. He was a _doctor_? Alan backed away hastily. The last "doctor" the man had taken Alan too had made him feel worse, not better.

"I'm with the FBI," the man added, pulling out his badge. "I'm a doctor in psychology. Not a normal doctor," he added.

Alan swallowed, still not reassured. The man smiled at him, then sighed. "We're going to take you home to your family," the man said.

That was when Alan's eyes widened. He wanted to go home to his real family – not th e man who was pretending to his father. He remembered them. Scott. Virgil. John. Gordon. His father. "No!" Alan said, backing away. "I'm not going with him!" Alan stood up, ready to flee if he could. He wanted to find his real family.

"Not him, Alan," the other man reassured. He opened his wallet and pulled out a picture. He had been paying close attention to the case and had found a picture of the Tracy family on the internet. He didn't know why, but he'd put it in his wallet. "This family."

Alan looked at the man in awe before snatching the picture away, marveling as he stared at Virgil, who he had not seen in forever. He swallowed hard as he looked at John and his daddy. He missed them all so much.

"Do you know your phone number?" Reid asked.

The other man was back by now, but he hung back. He came forward on that statement. "I'm Derek Morgan, Alan. I work with Reid here. We're going to take you home to your real family. That guy is being put where the bad guys go."

Alan nodded, still trying to digest what had happened. "Keep the picture," Reid told him. "Do you remember your phone number?"

Alan shook his head. That had seemed like a lifetime ago. He failed to notice Reid and Morgan share looks behind his head.

"Come on," Reid offered. "We're going to go to our station and get in touch with your family, all right?"

Alan decided to take the chance. They couldn't be any worse than the bad man, right?

* * *

><p>Morgan sighed as he walked back into the office. They had tried to notify Hotch – their boss – of the situation, but hadn't been able to get in touch with him. Hotch looked at Morgan, surprised. "Why are you back? I hadn't yet told you they got their guy."<p>

"Long story. To make it short, we found Alan Tracy."

"How?" Hotch asked, his mouth dropping open. "Police have been trying to find the kid for almost two months open. What did you do – stumble on him in the airport?"

Morgan raised his hands. "Actually, yeah, pretty much. The guy who kidnapped him – police are handling him now – was dragging him through the airport and the kid was screaming his head off. Reid noticed, and remembered the kid from his time of looking at – I don't even know, you'd have to ask him. Anyway, we need to get in contact with his father."

"That won't be easy. I don't know much about the case, but I _do _know that his father's not accepting a lot of contract from other people right now. No surprise there. I'll use some contacts and get in touch with him. You help Reid take care of the kid. Has he been to a doctor?"

Morgan shook his head. "Not yet. We brought him straight here. He wasn't in any immediate danger and we didn't want him to be any more traumatized than he already was."

"Good call. I'll get in touch with the father."

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling, Gordon?" Jeff asked his second youngest son as he approached him.<p>

"I've been better," Gordon admitted. His arm hadn't been broken, much to his relief; that would have meant a horrific six weeks without swimming. It had, however, been sprained. "Is everyone else okay?"

"Alan and Virgil are still missing."

"Virgil is missing?" Gordon's eyes rose. "I didn't even know he had been kidnapped."

"You wouldn't have." Jeff sighed, still upset. He debated on how much to tell his son. "John and Virgil found an address for the man who was still holding you hostage and decided to go and check it out themselves. The man was there and got a jump on them. I guess he 'made' John tie Virgil up and took off with both Virgil and Alan." Even Gordon, tired as he was, heard the snear on the word 'made.'

"You can't seriously blame John for that, Dad!" Gordon said. He felt a headache coming on but wanted to get this dealt with before he called the nurse. "I'm assuming the man had a gun. What did you want John to do instead – get Virgil killed by disobeying?"

"He shouldn't have gone to the house without telling me! I cold have prevented it!"

"By doing what, Dad? I hate to break it to you, but this psychopath hated you. He said something about being related to you somehow and how he was going to 'make you pay.' I bet you _anything_ that if you wold have been there, he would have shot you in front of Alan. Is that what you wanted, Dad? Okay, they should've told someone instead of going themselves. This guy can usually smell law enforcement from a mile away. He was ready to move us right before they had shown up."

"Again?"

Gordon rolled his eyes. The motion hurt. "Yeah. He moved us so often. It was all apart of his scheme to prevent us from escaping. In a way, it's almost better that they came by themselves."

Jeff sighed. "I guess I need to go apologize to John."

Gordon groaned. "You yelled at him for _that_?"

"I was angry." Jeff sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I wasn't right; I know it. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, as soon as I get rid of this headache."

Jeff smiled. "I'll have nurse bring in some painkiller." He flipped open his cell phone. "This is Jeff Tracy speaking. Don? Yes? You – you found Virgil? What? Thank you. I'll be to your station right away." He breathed a sigh of relief. "They found Virgil."

"I doubt he really wanted Virgil in the first place. It was probably just a distraction technique," Gordon guessed. Jeff sighed as his cell phone rang again, and he answered it.

"Jeff Tracy speaking... who is this... WHAT? Oh my God. Wait, what? You did? He's okay?" Jeff swallowed a visible lump in his throat. "I have to go pick up my other son from the downtown police station... they just found him... Wait, what? Yeah, that's where I'm at, how did you know... Yes, please bring him here. Thank you!" With that, Jeff hung up the phone.

"What happened?" Gordon was all ears.

"Both Virgil and Alan are found," Jeff said. He allowed a moment where he leaned against the wall. "I know Scott was drifting off to sleep so I'll send John in here. I'll apologize to him when I get back."

Gordon nodded, even though he was about ready to drift off into sleep himself. "Kay," he said. He barely remembered his father leaving the room before he started to drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p>So, Jeff knows Virgil and Alan are found. Gordon set Jeff straight on his attitude. What do you think will happen next? How will Alan react to seeing his family? Will Jeff apologize to John? Please review!<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

Credit for this update should be given to jotracy, who nudged me to update my "other Thunderbird stories." Originally, I was going to break this into two chapters and post it, but I felt like posting it in one chapter would be more of a reward for the reader. Thank you for following me along the ride, and I hope that you enjoy the conclusion of Terrible Two's. Yes, you heard me right: conclusion. If you want more reading material, bounce on over to my story, "Why Lies Matter," which is also Gordon and Alan centric.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Numb3rs, Criminal Minds, or Thunderbirds. I do own the unique ideas and characters related to this story. If you would like to borrow them, please ask. 99.9% of the time I say yes.

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy sat quietly as he huddled against the chair. Morgan sighed and raked his hand through his hair. The kid was quiet, supernaturally so, and it bothered Morgan more than he cared to admit. He knew that the child would have his fair share of recovery to do. "Hey," he greeted Spenser as he came in, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee.<p>

"Hey," Spenser responded.

"Thanks." Morgan took a long drink of the real coffee, grateful.

"Has he said anything?"

"Nothing."

"Have you tried to talk to him?" Spenser asked as he also took a sip of his real coffee.

"No, Reid! What would I say?"

"Whoa, easy Morgan. I've got it."

Morgan sat down his coffee cup and glanced at Reid, who approached Alan again. There was a reason Reid was on the team - he was good at his job, damn good. Sometimes, better than Morgan.

* * *

><p>"Hi," Reid said as he approached Alan. "I'm Dr. Spenser Reid. Remember? We met at the airport?"<p>

There was a blank stare in response, but there was also a flicker of recognition in Alan's eyes that had not been there before. That gave Reid hope enough to keep pushing.

"Your father is coming to pick you up," Reid said as he pulled up a chair next to Alan. "He'll be here as soon as he can."

"Gordon?" Alan asked, hopefully.

Reid blinked as he mentally skinned the case file. Gordon; right, the older brother that had been kidnapped with Alan. "I don't know, Alan," he said, "but I do know that Gordon is fine. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

The eleven-year-old frowned.

"I don't know if he's coming with your father," Reid explained.

This was the wrong thing to say. "No!" Alan responded even as he launched himself out of his chair. "No, no, no, no!"

"What's wrong, Alan?" Reid asked as he placed himself as a visible barrier in front of the door.

"Want Gordon. Gordon okay!"

"Yes, Alan. Gordon is okay," Reid responded. "Your brother is okay."

Alan sighed but nodded. He glanced halfheartedly down at the floor, then back up at Reid, then back down at the floor. Reid frowned, trying to process his emotions. It would be a long journey back for Alan, but something in Reid told him he would make it.

* * *

><p>"Daddy!" Alan screamed, not caring who saw him as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him out to the airport. Reid had agreed to drop off Alan and meet with Mr. Tracy himself.<p>

"Alan!" Jeff said, hugging his youngest tightly. "Oh, thank God!"

"Missed you, Daddy," Alan sniffled.

"I missed you too," Jeff said. "There's someone else who would really like to see you..."

"Scott!" Alan yelled, making the transition instantly from his father's arms to his brother's arms.

"Pleasure to meet you," Reid responded, hoping that was the right thing to say to the famous Mr. Tracy. "I'm grateful that your son is alright."

Mr. Tracy nodded. "Thank you for bringing him back. If your unit _ever_ needs any favors, please don't hesitate to call me," he said, handing Reid his personal business card. "I'll be more than happy to help." He had already had the files pulled on both Spenser Reid and Derek Morgan who had found Alan. He had a need to know that they were good cops. When he saw their track record, he arranged for a … gift... to be set to their office.

"It's no problem," Reid reassured him. "I'm just happy to see him home again. Normally, we'd ask him questions, but because I know you have specialty experts following up on this, I was just going to send him home with you and have them follow up." *

"Thank you," Jeff responded humbly.

Scott, who was still holding Alan, shifted him to his left arm. The eleven-year-old wasn't heavy, and Scott was alarmed at how much weight he lost. "Thanks," he said, gratefully. "Knowing Dad, you'll probably walk in and find a surprise on your desk."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that wasn't necessary-"

"Scott," Jeff warned, "What did I say about ruining the surprise?" He turned back to Reid. Reid half expected him to be angry, but the smile on his face surprised him. "I sent a little present as reward. You have one, Morgan has one, and then your team has one too. Thank you. You've renewed my faith in the FBI."

"It's an honor, sir." As he watched the Tracy family walk away, all Reid could think about was, _it's a good thing Morgan wasn't here, or he'd have slapped me silly for that last comment._

* * *

><p>"I missed you," Alan told Scott, already feeling better for having been with his brother for a short time.<p>

"We missed you too, kiddo, and Gordon is really excited to see you. So is everyone else."

"I don't want to go away again," Alan informed Scott.

Scott ruffled his hair. "Don't worry. I don't think any of us will let you out of our sight for awhile. You should see the hotel, kiddo. I think that Gordon has a party all planned."

"Party," Alan responded. Scott grinned and hugged him while inwardly sighing. Alan's speech had regressed; he wondered if he'd have to see a speech therapist in the future, but decided not to worry about that. For now, his focus was on one thing: bringing Alan home.

* * *

><p>Scott sighed as he look at Alan sleeping peacefully on the plane. He looked so happy; so carefree. Scott was just glad he was home.<p>

"He makes you happy, huh?" Jeff asked as he sat down.

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds weird, but I am so glad he's home."

Jeff nodded. "Did you talk to your adviser about getting back into college?"

"Yes, and John did as well. We're all admitted to go again next quarter. I think that the next few weeks will be hectic enough for us without worrying about it. I'm not sorry we took the quarter off. It didn't mess with our schedules, and I think we're honestly better for the break. What did you get them as a present, anyway?"

"You mean the FBI agents?"

"Who else would I mean?"

Jeff smirked. "Oh, you have no idea."

"Oh, come on, Dad. This isn't fair. What did you leave them? A ten thousand dollar check?" Scott asked.

"Oh, come on. You know me and gifts..."

* * *

><p>Reid parked his car and walked back into the office. Morgan took a large gulp of coffee before handing him a package. "This is for you. It's from 'Mr. Tracy.' I got one too. The other people got some stuff, but I haven't seen any of them yet, so... By the way, Mr. Tracy – I know I should remember that name to the letter..."<p>

"Mr. Tracy, CEO of Tracy Enterprises. His kids have quite a few accomplishments," Reid remarked as he opened his package. Morgan wasn't as careful and tore off the wrapping paper instantly.

"Nice box," he remarked as he looked at his own identical one. Reid frowned and used the key to open it.

The first thing he found was a note.

_Spenser Reid, _

_Please do not be mad at your supervisor when you figure out who revealed this information to me. I wanted to thank you and Derek Morgan for rescuing Alan, at risk of nearly being shot at yourself. While most people would assume I just give money, I find that so impractical. It, after all, runs out after a short period of time._

_I have taken care of paying for your mother's hospital bill for the next three years. She will get the best care possible. I also have money in here for plane tickets to you to go and visit her. I have spoken with your supervisor, who has ensured me that you will get the time off when you need it. If not, you know my number. _

_Additionally, one of your co-workers said that you were in need of a new car, so I hope you find the one out front sustainable. _

_Sincerely, Jeff Tracy_

_P.S. And don't worry about me knowing most of your "personal information." My personal secretary, Ann-Marie, tracked this down. She's a sweetheart. If you could send a thank you letter to her that would be great. _

"Wow," Morgan responded with an eyebrow raised. He did not fail to notice the unwrapped presents in the box and wondered _exactly _what they were.

Reid breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, now I don't have to worry about paying for Mom's care for awhile, so that's a huge relief. You know, he's right – money is a lame gift. What did you get?"

Morgan shrugged. "After you read your letter, I'm a bit afraid to read mine." Regardless, he ignored the other presents in the box and pulled it out.

_Derek Morgan,_

_Thank you for rescuing Alan Tracy and being so willing to act on your co-worker's lead. You will never imagine the relief this gave to me._

_As far as your 'thank-you' present, I have done a few different things. I tracked down your family in Chicago and paid their rent for the next year. Hopefully this will allow you to breathe easier about their financial struggles. You will be happy to know that both of your younger sisters have received an official invitation to apply for the Tracy scholarship funds, as well as an invitation to the next Tracy event we have for their age. I think they'll like it._

_Additionally, I have made sure that your apartment is paid for as well. I see that you are fairly secure on finances. I have, however, taken care of all of the remaining debt that you owe from any student loans and outstanding balances. You will also find some cool technological advancements in the box. _

_Sincerely, Jeff Tracy_

"Wow," Morgan said, feeling lightheaded. He sat down. That was great news for both him and his family. "Yeah, Reid; I agree... money is so impersonal," he remarked as he opened his first present.

_This is a watch that is just like your old one with one modification. Press the right button twice and it will instantly send out a distress call to your team leader. The rest of you have one as well, although I have tried to make as close to their watch as possible._

"Dang, nice gifts," Morgan whispered even as he opened another package. "Hey, Spenser?"

"Yeah?" Reid asked, blinking at Morgan calling him his first name.

"Remind me not to question you again about rescuing someone."

Reid only smirked.

* * *

><p>Alan's reunion went over well with everyone, especially John. When Jeff saw John flinch away from him, he sighed. "Scott, can you supervise? I want to talk to John for a minute. How about we grab some lunch?"<p>

Although Alan was physically fine, the doctor wanted him to stay in the hospital for two days. Jeff was half annoyed and half grateful. He supposed the most important thing was making sure that Alan didn't leave his sight.

"I think I can manage." Jeff didn't miss the look that Scott flashed John: _just go with it_. He inwardly sighed, and he and John went down to the hospital cafeteria. They ordered and moved towards a table.

"Dad, I'm sorry—," John started.

"No, John. I'm sorry," Jeff responded. "What I said was out of line and uncalled for. You did the right thing. Yes, you should have notified me and the local police first. However, because three of the local police were found guilty the case where Virgil was dumped in the woods, I think that you did the right thing. Next time, however," Jeff said, "at least tell me, and I can get you some trusted background on the ground. In the end, I am glad you went. You indirectly rescued Alan and for that, I am very grateful."

"Thanks, Dad." John brushed away a tear and tried to think of how to change the topic of conversation. "So, Scott said that you gave something to the people who worked the hardest on the case. What did you give them?"

"Oh, just a few items I thought they could use," Jeff said with a smirk. "If they send thank-you letters, I will tell you."

"Oh, come on, Dad. Knowing you, you didn't send money, but you paid their rent for a year or something."

Jeff smirked back, not letting John know that he was actually right on one count. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

* * *

><p>## Epilogue – Six Months Later ##<p>

It was six months later and the Tracy family was recovering great. Alan had worked with many different therapists and doctors, and while Scott had worried about him falling behind in his speech, he was not only on target for his age range, he was more advanced now.

Scott had just finished his quarter at school and was back on break. John was, too, floating around somewhere. Their father had finally purchased the island he had wanted, and until Alan hit high-school, he would be home schooled by a private tutor who lived on the island.

"Scott!" twelve-year-old Alan cried gleefully. "I have a new word for you!"

"Oh, boy," Scott responded. To make his sessions more interesting, the speech therapist had been teaching him the meaning of "big words" that he could use to trick his brothers. Once he'd been stumped by three, Scott had started to read the dictionary.

The Tracy brothers were competitive, it was in their blood. "What's this new word, Alan?" he asked, eying Gordon. "Gordon! Don't shove Virgil in the pool!" he yelled. "Can't we save the arguing for later in the afternoon?" He turned back to Alan. "So, what was your word?"

Alan only grinned, making Scott worry. Much to Scott's relief, all the individuals who had worked with kidnapping Gordon and Alan had been caught. The trials had taken forever, but they were finally done. Scott was so grateful he had taken a quarter off.

"Ebullient," Alan said, flashing a smile brilliantly. "Do you know what that means, Scott?"

Scott paused as he sighed for a minute, trying hard to think about what the meaning of the word was.

"Let me guess," he responded, really having no clue, but thinking about it from the look on Alan's face. "It's a really big word for happy... enthusiastic?"

"Yup!" Alan responded. "You're getting better, big brother. It means zestfully enthusiastic." Alan grinned at him, and Scott smiled back.

"Thanks, I think," Scott replied with a roll of his eyes. "So, are you _ebullient _to be here?"

"Oh, yes," Alan said even as Scott blinked. The next thing he knew, he toppled down into the island pool. Spluttering, he climbed out.

"Gordon Tracy!" Scott responded. "What have we said about pushing people off guard into the pool?"

"That it's fun?" Gordon said cheekily. "Now you _have _to change for dinner tonight, Scott."

"I was planning on it anyway." The dinner tonight was with a select few of the FBI agents who worked with helping them get Alan back. Scott was sort of looking forward too it. "Hey, Gordon," he said, "are you ebullient?"

"Am I ebu – ebu – what?" the teenager asked, running his hand through his hair.

"Ebullient. Scott knows what it means, do you?" Alan grinned.

At that, John walked in, and Virgil joined the trio. "Do we know what what means?" Virgil asked with a grin.

"Ebullient," Alan said. "Scott knows. He got it."

Scott wasn't about to reveal that he had only guessed the word.

"What do you think I am, a walking dictionary?" Gordon asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Where did you learn that word, anyway?"

"What do you mean you don't know what it means, Gordon?" Virgil teased. "Ebullient means 'zestfully enthusiastic.'"

"Good job!" Alan said, giving his brother a high-five.

"I think we're all ebullient that you're home," Jeff said, coming in from behind. "How did you know that word, Virgil?" he asked with a smirk.

Virgil blushed. "I may have, uh, overheard Scott's explanation."

"Oh, good," John responded, "I feel better for not being a walking dictionary."

Gordon grinned. "Hey, Dad, how long until it's time for supper?"

"About two hours, why?"

"I want to know if I have time to do some laps in the pool," Gordon responded.

"Gordon, it's two hours before you eat, and the guests are coming in an hour! Shouldn't you be getting dressed?" Scott asked. He was still dripping wet from where Gordon had flung him into the pool.

"Hey, I still have half an hour!" Gordon protested.

"Boys," Jeff broke in cheerfully, "I think it's time to stop arguing about the pool, and get ready for dinner." He grinned as he looked at Gordon. "And yes, I know we still have time before our guests arrive, but I do believe that you should do Scott's laundry for him since you pushed him into the pool."

"Dad!" Gordon mock-whined.

Alan snickered.

Gordon looked upset, but only grinned. His father didn't know that he was giving him a perfect excuse to prank Scott again. "Okay."

Scott frowned. "'Okay?'"

"You mean you know what ebullient means, but you don't know what okay means?" Gordon asked, his grin now wide.

"Dad, can I supervise Gordon to make sure he doesn't turn my clothes pink? Or better yet, do my own laundry?"

Jeff smiled happily. His boys were home, alright. It felt so good that they were all there. "Boys," he warned. "Gordon, don't do anything to Scott's laundry. If you do something, and it's ruined, I will make sure that you get in trouble for it."

"Dad..." Gordon whined. He grinned and walked off.

_Dad only said if it was ruined_...

As Gordon was putting Scott's laundry in the washing machine, trying to figure out a prank he could do with this, Alan approached him. "Hey, Gordon," he said.

"Hey, Sprout. What's up?"

Looking mildly annoyed at the nickname, Alan still grinned. "What's up? You wouldn't do Scott's laundry willingly without a prank, that's what's up. So... can I help?"

Gordon grinned. This was so worth it. "Of course," he responded.

The terrible two were back.

* * *

><p>Well, so much for just a oneshot! I suppose fourteen chapters aren't so bad, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the conclusion. Please review!<p>

* - I am not sure if this is proper law enforcement regulations or not, but it fit best for here.


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